


Insurance

by VicenteValtieri



Series: A Thousand Lives Unlived [9]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Babies, Comment Plz, Comments Motivate Me, Different continuities, Instinct, M/M, Pregnancy, Remember that other fic?, Running, Seekers, Sparklings, This one is like it., carrier, creator, flight, valve and spike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-04-20 04:47:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14253330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VicenteValtieri/pseuds/VicenteValtieri
Summary: Starscream never feels guilty for fragging both leaders of the Cybertronian factions. After all, he has a thousand contingencies, exits, and motives for every action he takes. Conscience doesn't really factor into this. He's a survivor, and he will survive.But when his safeguards fail and he ends up sparked - by both mechs, no less - he has no choice but to withdraw and to enlist help from another Carrier who knows the pain of lost children. But can he be trusted to keep this a secret from the unstable warlord who leads them both?





	1. Chapter 1

Starscream never felt guilty.

The convoy’s moans filled the berthroom, hitching on every vent as he dug his heels in and thrust upwards to meet the teasing, tantalizing Seeker. Starscream bounced over him, up and down, grinding and twisting his hips to meet the Prime. Everything about the Convoy was a challenge. He had to be coaxed along, touched, licked, and teased. But when Starscream had him, Optimus gave him everything. Everything he could possibly wish for. 

Megatron was the opposite. It didn’t take much to make him give everything, but the problem was that he had no regard for those he regaled his “gifts” upon. And Starscream was not something that could be poured into with nothing to hold it back. He could not be controlled or abused or “made perfect” he could only be himself. And sometimes the dissonance between them was a high that demanded to be ridden until it spent itself out.

But the rest of the time, it was angry and hateful, and nothing could keep them together or even on good terms with each other. Starscream couldn’t live like that forever, so he laid traps and set out tricks. He teased and toyed, looking for a slip, a chink, a crack, anything to sink a dagger into.

It was different with Optimus. With Optimus, his squeezing, poisonous talons were already clutched around the Convoy’s spark. Catching the Convoy had been difficult, but now that he had him… it was child’s play to keep him, because something inside of Optimus genuinely loved and admired Starscream. 

No, Starscream never felt guilty. This was a war for survival, after all, and it was well-matched and even. For the Seeker, he was a survivor and a profiteer. He could live with himself after using both leaders. Could live with himself even if he had to kill them in the end. Conscience didn’t really factor into this. It just was, and he was, and that was all. At any moment, he had a thousand contingency plans going. At any moment, he had a hundred exits from any situation. He was prepared for damage control in almost every way. 

When the war had started, he had gathered his credits – and any he got afterwards – and he had had them scattered to the four winds, in anonymous accounts on multiple worlds. If he gathered them all up again, they would make quite a nice stack. He had built himself multiple safe houses on as many worlds and there were ships at each one. Contingencies within contingencies. He would be able to run and to hide, to move freely among the worlds, even if the Cybertronian war went against him.

All of his rock-solid contingencies were balanced on one delicate link: He would have to be able to get off of Cybertron.

For all of the credits, the wealth, the storehouses, and the planning, Starscream had to get off of Cybertron to enjoy and use them. Once off, no one would find him, and to that end, he had had three long-range shuttles stored away, tucked into corners of the planet. Two of them had been discovered. The third was a jealously guarded secret on the war-torn planet.

If push came to shove, he had taken care to gain the codes for all Decepticon shuttles and traveling craft, just in case. 

As he gripped hard on Optimus’s shoulders and pushed their sparks together, melding their emotions and overlapping their surface thoughts, he had driven all thought of Megatron or contingencies from his mind. The Prime hadn’t been easy to capture into this act, wanting to wait until they could be proclaimed as Bonded, but Starscream had been insistent. He had a cervix cap installed and Megatron had insisted he share sparks with the Seeker, so why shouldn’t Optimus have the same? Fairness aside, spark merging developed strong attachments between the mergers, and it further ensured his future. Optimus would never harm him. Megatron could never bear to kill him. He would survive, live, and the price was a little shared pleasure and intimacy.

He lay gasping across the Convoy’s chassis as his valve cycled and twitched in overload. Sheer heaven, that was what this was. He loved every moment of it. 

Optimus patted his back tiredly. “…Will you stay the nightcycle?”

“I can’t.” Starscream replied, entirely truthfully. “Megatron will notice I’m gone if I’m away for much longer.”

“…Someday, I will make sure you never have to return at his call.” Optimus pressed a chaste kiss to his helm. 

“I’d like that.” Starscream rolled off to lie beside him and then sat up. “I’ll just clean myself up.” Optimus’s transfluids were leaking slowly out of his valve. With the cervix cap in place, they couldn’t be pumped up into his gestation tank. A shame, if it weren’t for the spark merging. Transfluid could be an excellent source of metals and minerals for even an adult mech. 

“I’ll help you.” Optimus rolled to his pedes and followed after Starscream. 

Starscream smirked at how easily led his Prime was and let a washcloth hang appealingly over his shoulder. “Thanks. You can wash my back.”

Optimus took the rag and made a point of dropping it into a puddle where it made a splash against Starscream’s pedes.

Starscream purred as he was pinned against the cool tile. “Want something, Optimus?”

“I think you know exactly what I want.” Optimus revved his engine against Starscream’s wings. 

“So soon? But I’m tired…” Starscream whined, wiggling his aft against Optimus’s crotchplate. 

Optimus began kissing at his neck and shoulders. “Then I’ll just have to do the work this time.” He slid his servos to Starscream’s thighs and encompassed each one with his servos, lifting the delicate Seeker. 

Convoys didn’t have the same stamina that tanks did, but Optimus seemed to be in a class by himself. Starscream easily let his legs split apart as he braced himself against the wall for support. 

The Prime sank home for the second time that evening, almost obscenely gentle in his onslaught and unstoppable at the same time. Starscream keened softly, keeping his voice low. In the Autobot’s base, there was always the danger of being caught.

One of the massive servos covered his mouth gently, a digit passing between his teeth as a makeshift gag. The other servo readjusted its grip and the Prime began a steady, pounding rhythm that soon had Starscream whining and moaning into the gagging servo.

It was a long, pleasurable time before he escaped the amorous Prime and by the time he did, it was far too late to return to the Decepticons without risking Megatron’s wrath. Might as well go all the way.

Or at least that was the excuse he used for snuggling up with the Prime and recharging instead of flying off into the chilly night. 

“…I swear, you do this on purpose.” The Seeker muttered, tucking in his limbs to the warmest parts of Optimus’s chassis.

“What on purpose?” The convoy sleepily curled up around his small frame.

“Keep me here too late to possibly get back to the base on time. This is a sneaky way of trying to get me to stay permanently, I’ll give you that.” Starscream snuggled into his neckcables. 

“Hmm… Is it working?”

The Seeker chuckled, curling closer. “Maybe… Maybe.”

 

Megatron tossed him into a wall, and down to the floor, and into his berth, and onto his spike, several times, in rapid succession. By the end of the onslaught, the Seeker was gasping and panting, transfluid coating his aft and his valve aching right up to his abused ceiling node. His optics were still rolling and trying desperately to reorient themselves within his helm and he was lying in a puddle of his own lubricants.

In short, Starscream was completely wrecked. What a way to start the day: First waking up to a Prime’s glossa on his valve, then being pounded through the berth by an angry warlord and bathed in a tank’s considerable transfluid reservoir. He felt like he could conquer the galaxy! …If only he could stand up.

“Will there be any more of these incidents?” Megatron’s engines rumbled next to his audials.

Primus, yes, there would be more of these incidents. Much as he hated the blows and angry words, the rough, passionate interfacing was worth the abuse. Frag, yes. It was one of the reasons he let Optimus convince him to stay the night so often. If he had to pick who he wanted to win this war, he wouldn’t be able to, that was how good both giants were. 

Still, for form’s sake. “No, Lord Megatron… Not again.” Starscream told him, flopping down into the warlord’s pillow.

Megatron slapped his aft with an open servo, drawing a moan from Starscream as his sensitive insides were jostled anew. “Get yourself cleaned up and report for duty. We have work to do.”

Starscream dragged himself out of the berth and into the washracks, feeling every ache and stretch deep inside and purring a storm to himself. 

Megatron had punched him, several times, in the area where his gestation tank was located and the area ached the worst. His plating was dented and misshapen, he would need to see Hook or Flatline, and his neck was bleeding slightly. Megatron had bit him. Hard.

 

Optimus made puppy-dog optics at him as he mentally pleaded with the Seeker to stay, but Starscream wasn’t in the mood to frag off Megatron. Not lately. “…I need to take a shower and go, Optimus.” Starscream pressed a kiss to his lipplates. “You’re doing really well, lately. He’s extremely fragged off and I don’t want to be on his bad side.”

Optimus’s optics dimmed. He had seen that truth in Starscream’s spark that evening, though the Seeker hadn’t shown him more than basic impressions. Early on, the Seeker had learned that Optimus tended to read between the lines perfectly well with just those flashes. “I hate seeing you go back to him, when you know he’s going to hurt you.”

Starscream pressed his lipplates together. “I have to look out for myself, Prime. I can’t just sit here, and pretend I’m on your side. You’re on a winning streak today, but tomorrow may bring plague for all I know. This… us…” Starscream sighed, resting his forehelm against Optimus’s shoulder. This was difficult territory to navigate. 

“I know.” Optimus sighed, touching his shoulder. “I’m insurance.” His large, blue optics searched Starscream’s, looking for something. The Seeker couldn’t tell if he found it or not. 

“You’re a little more than that.” The Seeker muttered, extracting himself and standing up. “…I’ll see you next time?”

Optimus didn’t answer beyond a slight bob of the helm, but Starscream could sense – in the tingling aftereffects of their merge – that he would be waiting for his next visit.

 

Megatron was waiting when Starscream landed on the hangar deck. The Seeker had run through some sand in the wind on his way back, so fortunately he didn’t look quite too pristine. “…Someday, I’m going to ask you where you go.” Megatron gripped the Seeker and pushed him into one of the abandoned hangar’s walls. 

“Here and there where the wind takes me, Megatron.” Starscream batted his optics. “I’m a wandering mech. A Seeker.”

“A Seeker indeed.” Megatron pressed against his cockpit, urging it to open. “Show yourself, Seeker.”

Starscream purred and let his panels fall open to accept the tank’s ravaging.

Afterwards, it seemed like there was less mess than usual dribbling down his legs and he frowned slightly, before shrugging it off. It wasn’t beyond Megatron to empty off some of his overactive spike down a washrack’s drain or into Soundwave’s valve. 

Starscream sighed, stretching out the tightness in his hips, and bounced slightly as he walked back to his quarters. Happiness was being well fragged by two well-endowed mechs on the same evening.


	2. Testing

Optimus pulled Starscream behind a rock formation and folded his panels aside while Starscream keened. The Seeker was becoming more and more wanton as time went by, almost desperate. His increase in sexual appetite had outrun Optimus’s on more than one occasion of late. In fact, holy Primus, he was already fragging the Prime into another overload. He was driven, fast, and seemed determined to milk every bit of transfluid out of the convoy’s spike.

Little did Optimus know, this had become prevalent with Megatron as well. Starscream had even gone so far as to initiate interfacing with the warlord instead of trying to frag him off enough to do it himself. 

“…You are insatiable, Starscream.” He panted softly when the Seeker finally gave him a break. “What’s gotten into you?”

“…I don’t know.” Starscream admitted. “It feels weird.”

“Maybe your frame needs more metals.” Optimus sat up and flopped a servo over his forehelm. “Do you feel sick? I’m sure we can come up with a story and I’ll take you to Ratchet…”

“I think you’re the one who needs to see Ratchet, graceless Prime.” Starscream reached into his subspace and offered him a swig of coolant before taking one himself. 

“I’m just tired, Seeker.” Optimus flicked his wing. “And if nothing’s wrong with you, you should get out of here before someone misses you back at base.”

“Aww… One more go?” Starscream laughed at Optimus’s groan and stood up, taking to the air. “I’ll see you next time.”

Optimus gave him a half-sparked wave as he collapsed back against the rocks. 

 

Starscream went on for another few decacycles like that before he realized that something had to be seriously wrong with him. Going to a medic – on either side – was out of the question, so he had to do what he could to self-diagnose and treat. He had taken biology courses and knew something about how to test and identify diseases. 

“What are you doing, Starscream?” Shockwave’s single, red optic raked across the lines of beakers of fluids and several low-level reactions as well as several slides of energon samples. 

Starscream looked up at the other scientist. “Mind your own business, Shockwave. I won’t be here long. There are some things I need to confirm about one of my Seekers, that’s all.” And he turned back to his full round of diagnostic tests, examining a beaker that was turning – once again – a safe and clear yellow.

“Ah. And what are the symptoms of this mech’s ailment?” Shockwave tapped a grey claw against one of his sensory antlers. 

Starscream tapped a sky blue pede. “The most worrying symptom is an inability to keep higher grades of energon down, however there’s also the occasional fever, aches and pains in the spinal strut and legs, and an… increased sexual appetite.”

“Hmm… Those are familiar symptoms.” Shockwave looked over the beakers Starscream had already tested. “May I make a suggestion? Use a mixture of Tetrachylethelane and cobalt to mix with a sample of this mech’s waste fluid.”

“…A carrying test?” Starscream shook his helm, folding his arms. “Not possible.”

“And why is that, Commander?” Shockwave boredly questioned.

“Because the Seeker in question – while sexually active – has a cervix cap installed.” Starscream tapped one claw on the table. “Thus making it impossible for nanites to travel to the gestation tank.”

“Does this Seeker often get pummeled? Especially in the abdomen?” Shockwave questioned, antlers boredly lifting. “In such a way that a cervix cap might be knocked askew, thus rendering it effectively useless? You are aware that a cap such as the one you described is designed to dissolve if knocked out of place to prevent damage to the wearer.”

Starscream opened his mouth, closed it, brought a digit to his denteas and chewed it, then turned to the wall of chemicals and grabbed the specified two, mixing them in a beaker and adding the last of his own sample. The mixture turned a glaring, specific red. 

“Congratulations, Starscream.” Shockwave – who hadn’t bought a word of the “other Seeker” business – patted Starscream between the wings. “You’re going to be a Carrier.” And with that, he swept out of the lab to cause mayhem elsewhere.

Starscream shook as he stared down at the beaker. Whose was it? What should he do? Would Shockwave tell? No, no, he respected privacy too much and even that sick mech would never harm a sparkling. Rushing to a mirror designed to minimize glare, Starscream opened his cockpit and bent close, examining his itching, tickling spark.

…There were four of them. One had Megatron’s sea green spark. Another had Optimus Prime’s gold. The other two were blue and red respectively and all four of his brightly colored children stood out against his white spark. Primus. He was going to be a Carrier. 

Judging by their sizes, he still had a bit before they descended, a bit to decide what to do. As soon as their sparks descended and they started making protoforms, he could go to a medic and have his tank taken out and put into stasis, saving them for the end of the war. But with the unpredictable nature of medical supplies and resources, four stasis sparklings wouldn’t always be the priority they should be. Unless… Unless Megatron believed they were his…

But if Starscream told him that… He might insist that the Seeker not put them into stasis, but keep them and bring them into the world at the usual time. And if even one of them came with a convoy alt-mode and a mask…

Megatron wouldn’t stop to ask questions, he would slag all five of them, then whirl off in copter mode to accuse Optimus Prime of seducing his officers. With the spin he could put on any situation, Starscream might end up a martyr. 

Absolutely not.

Optimus… Optimus would take him and the sparklings in. He would shield them from his faction. In time, he might even understand why Starscream did what he did, and how he ended up playing Creator to his worst enemy’s children. But he would never look at Starscream the same way. He would have been betrayed, and he would be angry. 

…He would be within his rights to keep the child or children that were his and give Starscream the cold shoulder and the heave-ho, though that wouldn’t be in character for the Prime at all. 

Starscream’s optics blurred with coolant as one of his servos covered his mouth to stop any words from coming out as he cried. When he had finished venting himself, he really had no choice: He had to escape this place, and never return. The end of the war didn’t matter, wealth didn’t matter, power didn’t matter. Maybe these things had never mattered. What mattered was that his children would grow up – together – somewhere they could be safe and loved. 

So, he went to the one mech who might understand that need.

 

Soundwave could be creepy at the best of times. The Decepticon spymaster and communications officer was a slender mech with dark purple plating and lavender biolights. His faceplate and glass mask were inscrutable, but for whatever reason, Starscream never felt threatened by the other mech.

Soundwave was waiting when he arrived at the other mech’s quarters. Knowing him, he had even seen Starscream’s exchange with Shockwave and the color his reaction had turned. With that in mind, he might already have a hundred different plans turning over in his processor, coming up with ways to help Starscream or to hinder him, as the mood took him. 

“Soundwave.” Starscream greeted as he settled into a chair opposite the slim, tentacled mech and accepted a cube of energon from him. “If you knew I was coming, you must know something of why.”

“Congratulations, Starscream.” Shockwave’s voice played across Soundwave’s faceplate. “You’re going to be a Carrier.”

“Yes, yes… That.” Starscream sighed. “I need to leave. The war, Cybertron, everything. And there can’t be a chance of me being found or pursued.”

Soundwave toned something across his faceplate and looked down at the six slots in his chassis. His own sparklings, kept in a cassette form, rested against their Carrier. There had been twelve. 

“Exactly.” Starscream was not above using Soundwave’s weaknesses. “Will you help me?”

Soundwave raised his helm and nodded, once.


	3. The Arms Facility

The Decepticons attacked a weapons manufacture facility within the next few decacycles. Starscream had tried to continue as normal, but he was terrified for his sparklings, afraid they would be discovered. 

Optimus at the very least had sussed it out, Starscream knew. He was trying to be subtle, but he had begun giving the Seeker “gifts” of supplement-filled sweets and there was always a cube of energon waiting when they met. Further, the Prime had stopped saying “what, again?” When Starscream pawed at him for another round and replaced the phrase with “In a moment.” There was no doubt, he knew, and he seemed as frantic as the Seeker he fragged. 

 

“Do you have to go back?” Optimus lifted himself on one elbow as Starscream waddled slightly towards the window. “You could stay.”

“I do have to go back, and you know why. I’m not like you, Optimus, or your Autobots. Just because we have… this… doesn’t make me any less a Decepticon.” Starscream replied, the excuse feeling thin – like soup made with too much broth. 

Optimus took Starscream’s arm and turned him around. “And the sparkling?” He finally breached the topic Starscream had known was coming. “Is it a Decepticon too?”

Starscream glared at him, upset and hurt that he had broken their silent accord. “…You know what the Council used to say.” He broke Optimus’s grip with ease – the Convoy had released him. “The Carrier does the sparkling make.” 

Optimus gripped his waist. “And the Creator the sparkling sparks.” He kept a hold on Starscream as he wiggled. “And you’ve continued to return for my nanites, and I’ve given you all the help I can. Why do you deny me this? It’s my role.” His Creator coding had been coming online. 

Starscream braced his legs against Optimus’s knees and pushed. “Let go of me!”

“No.” Optimus’s optics became the slightest bit hard and steely. “What are you trying to hide?”

Starscream pushed harder. “This isn’t your affair! Let go!” He began to struggle in earnest.

“It’s my sparkling!” Optimus held on, trying to contain a Seeker that desperately wanted to get away. “Why won’t you let me care for my sparkling?!” Their voices were rising, someone was going to hear, but they couldn’t process that threat. Not right now. 

Optimus’s grip finally failed and Starscream ricocheted out of his arms and into the nightable and the wall behind it. He gave a yelp of pain as his shoulder and helm impacted. 

Optimus’s servos flew to his mouth when the Seeker collided and he fell to his knees, reaching for Starscream. “No, no… I didn’t mean it!” He cried out. 

Starscream, who had never been afraid of Optimus Prime in his life and certainly wasn’t now, recognized the incident for what it was: A concerned Creator trying to protect and nurture his sparkling and mate. It was not abuse, nothing near it, and though one could make an argument for unlawful imprisonment, that had not been the intention. But Optimus, who knew only what he saw, and had never understood how Starscream’s mind worked, didn’t know how the Seeker had seen this accident. 

And, for all of the wonderful qualities of the mech in front of him – each matched by something entirely annoying – Starscream had to get away now. So, when Optimus reached, he withdrew, pulling in his pedes and servos and making himself small in the corner of the room, flinching from the reaching servo like it was a venomous snake. 

Optimus recoiled into himself as well, backing off and giving Starscream space as he folded his servos on his tucked in knees. “…I’m sorry…” He whispered. 

There was banging on the door. “Prime? Prime, are you all right?” Prowl had finally cottoned to the fact that something was going on next door. 

“I have to go.” Starscream climbed out the window. 

“…Will I see you next time?” Optimus’s voice was forlorn and soft.

Starscream shot a look over one shoulder. “Of course.” And he plunged out the window, leaving Optimus to make his excuses to Prowl. 

 

Megatron had been oblivious. Starscream bitterly thought as he and Soundwave stood near each other, observing before the attack began in earnest. “Is everything ready?” Starscream questioned Soundwave. 

Soundwave’s helm bobbed slightly in a nod. 

“…Thank you, Soundwave.” Starscream looked down at the complex once more. “If you ever need me, I assume you’ll be able to find me. I owe you for this.”

Soundwave nodded once more and they went over the finer points of the plan once again. 

 

Megatron and the Decepticons came in from the South and began unloading as much of the weapons grade materials as they could. This deep in the complex, large pipes and lines ran coolant and energon hither and yon to every piece. It had been heavily guarded and resistance was fierce, but the main attraction hadn’t even arrived yet.

“How are we doing, Soundwave?” Starscream commed the spy-bot, who was acting as look out for this mission while Starscream kept the resources moving to the tankers and transports from here at the switchboard. He was extremely aware of how closely surrounded he was by hazardous materials. One stray shot… and bye-bye Starscream, and likely a good chunk of the surrounding area with him.

Soundwave pinged him the approaching Autobot “A” team and Starscream nodded, reaching over and flipping a few switches out of order. He commed the attack helicopter overlooking the rest of the operation. “Lord Megatron, we have a problem.”

“Soundwave has already made me aware of the Autobots, Starscream.” Megatron growled. “I am moving to intercept. Continue with the operation.”

“With all due respect, that wasn’t the problem I was referring to.” Starscream replied. “There’s been a malfunction in the main switchboard. The energic reaction lines are overheating.”

“Fix it!” Megatron barked. 

“I can’t from the switchboard! It would mean going further back into the main lines themselves and trying to find the problem. I can do it, safely, but it would mean shutting the lines down before they completely fail and we have a much larger problem.”

“Do not shut down those lines! Find a way to manage it without compromising our resource gathering.”

“My Lord, I have to recommend that the area be completely cleared.” Starscream doggedly continued. “If an attempt to fix the lines fails, the consequences will be catastrophic. If the line is not shut down, it will overheat within the hour.” 

“We’re going to be gone within the hour anyway! Continue with the mission!” Megatron disconnected the comm and Starscream sighed, pinching his nasal vent. 

Well, on to stage two. He abandoned the switchboard, coming his Seekers outside. “Thundercracker, Skywarp, how close are we to the resource goal?”

“We’re at fifty percent and counting. Warp just took the containers back for the first run.” Thundercracker replied, his gruff voice rough and soothing. Of course, he could count on his brother in law to take care of things. 

“I need to go further into the complex and make an emergency repair of the main coolant system. I want you to keep an eye on the emergency signals near the control board outside and be prepared to have Skywarp remove everyone from the scene on an emergency basis. Keep him completely fueled.” Starscream ordered the blue Seeker as he bent down to crawl beneath another pipe. “After everyone is removed, have Warp come to my signal and evacuate me, but only if I order it. Do you understand?”

“…Of course, Screamer. Good luck.” Thundercracker shut down his comm and turned back to his work while Starscream continued through the maze, hoping Soundwave was correct about his exit route.

 

In the meantime, Optimus Prime and Megatron had met. The Convoy leapt out of his alt-mode and engaged the helicopter while Blitzwing and Lugnut engaged the rest of the Autobots. Blurr noticeably slipped around the two and made for the complex, continuing his speedy run. Good mech.

“Megatron, you have gone too far!” Optimus called to the other. “Stand down now and you will be treated fairly!”

“I think not, Optimus Prime.” Red optics locked with blue and they clashed.

 

Blurr took in the complex and Soundwave’s position on top of it in a matter of nanoseconds. In a flash, he had climbed up and was battling with the spy plane. “What-is-the-purpose-of-this-Soundwave? The-Decepticons-risk-much-without-appropriate-engineers!”

Soundwave played Starscream’s recorded voice. “…I will operate the main switchboard. I have the required knowledge and training.”

“So-Starscream-strikes-again. That-has-to-sting,-always-being-secondary!” Blurr goaded as he flipped up and over Soundwave’s reaching tentacles. “I-hate-to-think-what-Shockwave-thinks.”

Soundwave blared Shockwave’s voice. “Your argument is logical, Starscream. I will manage the stabilization and containment process on the ground.”

“Ooo-burn! Double-whammy!” Blurr danced around him. 

 

Thundercracker kept a careful optic on the emergency lights. When they began to flirt with red, he turned to his purple and black mate. “Evacuate immediately.” He ordered. 

Skywarp sketched a salute and began teleporting Decepticons out, starting with Shockwave and the Constructicons. Meanwhile, Thundercracker opened the comm again. “Starscream, evacuation has begun. Where are you?”

“I’ve found the damage.” Starscream’s voice crackled back. “But it’s more severe than I thought. Do not send Skywarp in here. Repeat, do not. His teleportation may cause a chain reaction that will take this whole facility with us. I’m trying to seal off this area and minimize the damage, but it’s going to take time. Repeat, do not send Skywarp in here.”

“Screamer, get out of there!” Thundercracker hissed, wings coming up. “Don’t be a hero!”

“Oh, nothing is farther from my processor, I assure you.” Starscream replied, voice dripping with worry and even the faintest trace of fear. “But I’m too far in. If I turn around now, I’ll never make it away in time, and I still have a chance, if I can limit the explosion and barricade this area.”

Thundercracker cycled his comm to Lord Megatron. “Lord Megatron, emergency evacuation of the facility has commenced. Do you have any further orders?”

“Will all soldiers be clear?”

“…That appears to be a negative, sir.” Thundercracker responded, looking up as Skywarp warped the next batch of mechs out and started in on the remaining, collected resources. “Starscream is still within the complex, attempting to prevent the explosion.”

“Order him out of there at once!” Megatron’s voice took on a strange snap and twist. 

“I have, sir, he insists that there is no way to reach him in time and we are to proceed without him.” Thundercracker looked up as Skywarp warped Soundwave away from his post and the light blue Autobot speedster Shockwave was so enamored with. That left him as the last to be evacuated and he took to the sky to meet Skywarp.

“Now listen to me you little –“ Megatron growled into the comm, but the explosion behind Thundercracker prevented him from hearing it.

 

Optimus’s optics went wide as the facility went up in a massive fireball. Out of the flames, Blurr came running like a… well, a blur and screeched to Optimus’s side. “Optimus-the-mission-has-failed-but-the-Decepticons-took-heavy-casualties. I-suggest-we-retreat.”

Optimus looked down at Blurr. “Agreed. Autobots! Clear the field!” 

 

Megatron, meanwhile, cursed breathlessly and transformed, taking to the air. “Lugnut! Blitzwing! With me!”

The facility was a crater of molten slag. Starscream had been at the epicenter of the explosion. There was no way he had come out unscathed. Megatron landed near the edge, feeling the heat, and examined it. Completely molten slag. “…Soundwave.” He commed his third. “Was Starscream evacuated?”

Soundwave’s voice didn’t answer, but text appeared across his HUD: “Starscream: Not returned to Nemesis. Starscream’s spark signal: Missing.”

“…” Megatron took a deep vent and closed his optics. “Prepare the base for a day of mourning as soon as the mission’s after effects are completed. At the end of this decacycle, I will oversee a symbolic burial for our Air Commander.”

Soundwave acknowledged and the mechs disconnected. 

 

Optimus gripped the datapad containing a list of the Decepticons offlined in the previous battle. As usual, the actual casualties were very short: Lugnut had taken an injury, Blurr had managed to batter Soundwave, Megatron escaped with one arm out of its socket. But there was a rare death recorded below it.

Cybertron was far too de-populated to waste any lived needlessly, so killing was a last resort. It was far more likely to injure a mech enough to keep him off the field for a good, long time, or perhaps cripple him enough to prevent him from coming back to it. With only a hundred thousand mechs – give or take – remaining on Cybertron, it was a wise policy.

…But no matter how he tried to wish away the red glyphs beneath the rest of the casualties, they didn’t fade. Starscream’s profile identifier and name were crossed over with the red, diagonal slash: Terminated. 

They hadn’t even found the frame, didn’t know about the sparkling that had to be buried along with their Carrier beneath a pool of solid metal.

Jazz found his Prime tucked into a corner of his berthroom, datapad held to his windshield. “Bossmech? You… doing okay?” He cautiously knelt near Optimus. The Convoy couldn’t blame him for his caution. He may have thrown a conference table through a window upon first hearing the news. “Don’t take it so hard, bossmech. It’s a war, right? Casualties are a fact of it. I’m as sorry Starscream is gone as you are, but you can’t beat yourself up over it.”

Optimus flicked an optical ridge at Jazz. “He was my mate, Jazz.” He tiredly told the Praxian, not in the mood to keep the truth silent when it couldn’t hurt Starscream anymore. “He was with spark.”

“Oh.” Jazz was clearly broadsided. 

“Open a comm channel to Kaon. I want to speak to Megatron.” Optimus laid his helm on his knees. 

“Bossmech?”

“There are… services that need to be completed.” In other words, he wanted to hold a funeral for the Seeker – and the child he had never known.

“Right, bossmech. I’ll get the chopper on the line.” Jazz stood up. “…And I’ll talk to Prowl while I’m at it. Break the news gentle-like.”

“Thank you, Jazz.” Optimus replied numbly, picking up the datapad again and staring at the red slash, wishing it would go away.


	4. Assumption and Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... Vote in the comments: 4, 6, or 8.

Megatron and Optimus stared each other down across the camera. Both were shaking with rage and frustration and their officers were standing in a frightened half circle, staring at them and unable to look away. If there weren’t a screen between them, they would be rolling on the floor, pummeling each other.

There had been a lot of swearing following the revelation that Starscream had been… canoodling with both of them. Optimus accused Megatron of forcing himself on the Seeker and Megatron roared back that he was many things but not a rapist. Megatron, in return, had accused Optimus of murder by neglect, stating that an overload of the primary cooling lines wouldn’t have happened if proper maintenance had been carried out.

The revelation of the sparkling had not gone well either. Megatron had immediately claimed it as his and Optimus had done the same and soon they were swearing and bellowing at each other again as Optimus accused Megatron of negligence. After all, Starscream had advised that the lines be shut down before they overheated and caused a catastrophic event exactly like this. 

The Convoy squeezed the back of the chair under his servos so hard that it snapped in two. “If you were here, Megatron, I’d pound your sorry faceplates into tinfoil!” Optimus bellowed at him.

“Bring it on, Prime! Any time! Any rules! Anywhere!” Megatron raged back at him. 

The two heaved great vents, steam billowing off of their frames as Optimus and Megatron glared at each other, angry as only they could be. Optimus quietly replied with a set of coordinates. “…As fast as you can get there.” 

“No holds barred.” Megatron closed a fist. “No weapons banned.” 

“No subordinates or aid from our soldiers.” Optimus growled.

“I will bury you beside him.” Megatron threatened.

“I wouldn’t insult him by burying you on the same planet!” Optimus slammed his fist down on the cut-off button and turned, optics blazing, to find his officers almost cowering from him. “What are you all waiting for? Autobots! Transform and roll out!”

Megatron turned to his own officers, fists clenched and cannon warming to fire. “What are you all staring at? Decepticons! Transform and rise up!”

 

Starscream hummed to his sparklings as he lay on the berth, tucked inside his long-range shuttle and spinning plans through his processor. “…You’ll not find gold or silver, but a richer prize… waits for you beyond the rainbow… if you close your eyes…” The shuttle was making for a small safe house he had built on an oceanic world with a unique ecosystem. It would shield their signals, while the unique mixture of minerals in the ocean focused and reflected the sun’s rays, resulting in strong aquatic life and easily collected solar power which could be converted to energon. While the planet itself was beautiful, it wouldn’t suit for raising Seekerlets and the inhabitants were reclusive, and suspicious of outsiders. It was only a temporary stop on his way to finding a better home. He had already started the process of raking his credits together into one pile, there was only the problem of finding a place to settle in. An organic world would no longer suit his long-term purpose.

 

Starscream crawled into the tunnels beneath the processing facility and pulled the sealed and armored door shut behind him. There was a final sounding thump and then the explosion rang out, momentarily deafening the Seeker. Soundwave had been cutting the time finely. 

“…Good-bye.” Starscream whispered to the door and scrambled his comm, reaching into his chassis and pulling out the Decepticon badge worn next to his spark chamber. He crushed it under his pede, effectively “killing” himself on Soundwave’s monitors. Once that was done, he stripped off his other badges and the layer of polymer covering over his new paintjob. He was stark red now, no blue, with black highlights and white only on his wings. It was a much more mature look, and one that felt almost natural already. Soundwave had helped him stimulate his nanites to produce the new colors, the darker reds and the definition. Piling the polymer up, he set it alight so that it melted to slag. The badges were too distinct to leave behind, so he slipped them into his subspace. His faceplates were his sole giveaway and Soundwave had even thought of that. He slid a mask of black glass up and over them. There. Folding down his wings, he started through the tunnels at a wind sprint. According to Soundwave’s map, he would come out near his shuttle after a few hours run. 

 

He left right at sunset, flying straight into the sun to disguise his jets as he rode into the atmosphere and turned, making the jump to warp speed and passing out of his home solar system in a flash. Now, he was just waiting to arrive, resting gently on his wings, stroking his cockpit above the gestation tank. He would rest until the sparklings arrived on Aquatica, then continue on to the central bank of Tsorelis and take command of his united account. The handfuls of credits he had scattered here and there had made themselves a tidy sum of interest along with it and the sum would be more than enough to acquire a ship and start himself on the rambling life of one of the various merchants who inhabited the galaxy. 

He would sell his safe houses and liquidate the funds he had spent on them. Nothing pained him more than re-starting a plan from scratch, but at least he would be restarting from a very favorable position. And the sparklings – dear things – changed everything. As a single Seeker, alone and without any dependents, he might have been able to live off of the credits he had stored and stashed away for almost the rest of his life, but with four little mouths to feed and schooling to worry over, and a future to provide for, living off the fat of his labors wouldn’t cut it. Interest rates weren’t that good and his fortune wasn’t that large. 

And four might be a conservative estimate. If a sparklet had split… And it was Megatron and Optimus Prime who had sired these, with their large, high-output sparks, and Optimus who had nurtured them with his nanites. It would be more surprising if one didn’t split – Primus have mercy – he could end up with eight little ones. Now, that would be an impossible number. 

…Starscream wished fervently that Soundwave had agreed to come. His pack of brats was large as well and the more experienced Carrier would have been welcomed, but Soundwave had been adamant that he stay. Of course, Starscream had an idea of why. Soundwave had lost six younglings already. To abandon the cause they had been given to was to make their deaths useless. Mentally he saluted the dead and cursed the stubbornness of the living. He hoped Soundwave’s sparklings remained safe inside his unique frame for the rest of the war.

 

The Autobots and Decepticons arrived at the cooled lake of iron and slag at the same time. While the Autobots had to drive, they had a shorter distance to travel. It was a tense scene, with the officers of both sides lining up in a phalanx behind their respective commanders. The helicopter and the Convoy were still steaming at the edges. Both had come prepared for the fight of their lives. 

There would be no retreat sounded, no order given to cease and desist when one of them fell. This fight would not end until one of them fell and the other… the other would take command, and ownership, of all three prizes in the ring: Peace, Cybertron, and Starscream. At this point, it was a matter of honor.

Optimus’s sapphire blue optics blazed with an unholy, almost white fire. The Matrix inside his chest pulsed with and against this newly released monster, directing his urges with unerring focus, lighting up systems it knew were weak on Megatron.

…There weren’t many.

Megatron’s own optics blazed with an unleashed hatred fueled by grief and self-loathing. When the Prime fell, he would have exorcised responsibility for Starscream’s death – for the death of his child – onto his most hated enemy.

There was no civilized countdown as they met in the middle of the iron grey lake. There was no moment to nod to each other, acknowledge their own rules. No retreat, no surrender. The pristine surface of freshly cooled metal would run purple and pink with spilled energon before the day was over.

It was planet dawn over what had been Cassriyu, when Megatron roared a battle cry and charged the Prime. Optimus revved his engines to their maximum and threw himself into a dash, ready to meet him.


	5. Funeral Vows

Megatron’s first punch missed Optimus, but the Convoy’s intended headbutt didn’t land either. Megatron pushed him aside and they skidded on the metal, coming around to grip each other again. Megatron raised his cannon and fired, leaving divots in the smooth surface where Optimus ducked and dodged the bolts. The Convoy reared up into the air, battleaxe raised high, and buried it in the lake where Megatron had been standing. The helicopter had leapt out of the way at the last second.

Optimus swung up for another blow and was met by Megatron’s swords. They pushed against each other, engines roaring and coolant beading on their protoforms. 

“Aaaaahh!” Optimus and Megatron grated through clenched denteas as suddenly they both went skidding in the opposite directions. They had pushed each other away. 

Clashing again, they brutally pummeled each other with their weapons and fists. Optimus smashed Megatron’s cannon with the blunt side of his axe. Megatron tore his blaster off of his arm and crushed it. They pushed each other away and pulled in, leaving scars on the surface of what had once been pristine metal. 

As they regained their pedes after another sally left them at stalemate, Optimus’s vocalizer seemed to work independent of his processor. “If you had just listened to Starscream, this would never have happened!” He swung out with a leg, kicking at Megatron.

Megatron roared back. “If you had maintained your factories, he never would have had to repair it!”

And together, they danced with death again. 

“We had so many ideas, so many plans!”

“He would have sat at my side! A crown on his helm!”

“He never wanted a crown! All he wanted was respect and life!”

“You fed him death and destruction!”

“Everything he tried to build, you undermined!”

“What would you know of building something? What would you know of laying the foundations and drawing something into being?”

“What would you?!”

Megatron worked his servo around Optimus’s aerial and pulled it off while Optimus grabbed for Megatron’s exterior armor and tore it from its seams. Roaring, they flung themselves away from each other, reeling in pain.

“I know nothing of Creation! I am a dockworker, and now a soldier!” Optimus howled at Megatron. “Every plan, every idea for a new world when this darkness ends, every last one came from him!”

“He was naïve!” Megatron bellowed back. “Naïve and over-innocent to think that there could ever be compromise! A mech has to take what he needs from the world and then scramble to hold it!”

“Was he naïve or are you blind?” The Prime accused and they clashed together again.

“A strong foundation is made of stones pushed into place by the sweat and energon of a worker.” Megatron growled. “Build a city on sand and it won’t stand for long!”

“Keep tearing down what you’ve started and there will never be a city at all!” Optimus responded, his hatred ebbing like the tide. It wasn’t in him to keep emotions so strong so near his spark. The Matrix pulsed, and he thought of Starscream, of casual moments whispering to each other: The Prime and the Seeker. 

Megatron’s engines were heaving, exhausted. In the time that they had been battling, both had gathered wounds and gashes that bled out onto the metal surface. At the same time, Megatron’s processor pinged him with something only vaguely relevant. In their duel, they had strayed to stand directly over where the main switchboard had been in the factory.

The Matrix pinged Optimus with their location as well and both mechs sagged where they stood, looking down. Their officers were at a distance, out of audial range. 

“…I never meant for him to be anything but my second.” Megatron lifted his sword and drove it into the metal, as if it could reach the Seeker below. “I elevated him above every other mech. He stood at my right servo, and advised me. When he spoke, it was refreshing, because he spoke of hope. He was always thinking ahead, to far-flung plans I had no idea of, and I allowed it because even though he was usually blind to what was right in front of him, I was there to hold him back, when he became too much.”

Optimus flung his axe down next to the sword, its blade driving deep into the metal and sticking there. “I would have had him at my side, always.” He looked down. “He did have so many plans… And he helped me remember that, to reach them, we would have to walk through the muck and the blood. I hoped that he might come to his senses, that we would be together. When I realized he was with spark, I had hope… that this would be our moment.” He looked up towards Iacon. “With Starscream beside me, a left hand to match and outmatch Prowl, we would have ended the war and restored Cybertron. We would have been unstoppable.”

“We should have always known it would take energon to end the war.” Megatron sighed, setting a servo on his sword hilt, but not moving to pull it free. “But this energon… it is too young, too innocent for my taste.” 

Optimus felt the weight of their battle overcome him and he dropped to one knee, groaning. With his adrenals calmed, he could feel every ache of battle. “…Maybe he was never meant to stand at our sides, but between us.”

Megatron collapsed back as well, gingerly spreading one leg out to avoid further injuring it. “One servo clasped into each of ours… It’s not a bad idea. To think, I once considered him divisive and a troublemaker.”

“Oh, he was a troublemaker. Always.” Optimus replied, settling back to the metal. “But for all the trouble he caused, somehow he always got out unscathed.”

“Usually with some help.” Megatron noted movement out of the corner of his optics. The respite had been noted and their men were closing in, approaching them. “…The first sparklings in vorns, Prime. Count on Starscream to be saucy and daring enough to carry in this clime.”

“And they were ours.” Optimus muttered, reaching to his chest to pry off his badge and throw it away. “Until the Primus-damned war took them away.”

Megatron’s servo rested on his own badge for a long moment before he tore it off himself and their officers closed in, questioning and quiet.

“Weapons down.” Optimus ordered. 

“Disarm.” Megatron seconded. Both made their pain-filled way to their pedes until they could stand straight. “Recall the battle squadrons, Soundwave.” He reached out and rested a steading servo on Soundwave’s shoulder, using the surprisingly strong mech like a brace.

“Prowl, order all Autobots to rendezvous at Iacon.” Optimus ordered his second. Ironhide came up beside his Commander and slipped a steadying arm under his shoulders. “…We’re going to learn to build something if it kills us.”

And the Autobots and Decepticons quit the field, leaving a sword and an axe standing up straight in the light of the setting sun. 

 

Before there could be peace, there had to be healing. And there was a lot of it to be had. Megatron and Optimus both had to leave funerary arrangements to subordinates while they spent their time in medbay, being repaired. There was a lot of arguing in particular about how to cast the Memory pendants. By tradition, when there wasn’t a frame to melt, an equivalent mass of metal was selected and melted into the shaped decorations, to honor the fallen mech. Soundwave wanted to emphasize the “-Scream” suffix while Prowl was a fan of the “Star-“ prefix. The debates were almost heated as they argued out their design, but in the end, it was solved without blows and the molds were formed in the shape of a star falling and leaving a wave of shrill screaming in its wake. It had been Shockwave who suggested the addition of the smaller stars falling behind it. The sparklings needed to be remembered as well. Jazz chose the white ribbon to hang each pendant from. 

Scrapper and Scoop collaborated on a marble statue, polishing and re-polishing until it was perfect: A monument for a Seeker with the necessary inscriptions along the bottom. Longhaul and Ironhide built the pedestal for it, out of the same molten metal the lake was made from, lifting the platform in front of the two weapons – and for anyone’s efforts, those were a permanent fixture. 

The two armies met – some confused, others relieved, a few even shed coolant tears – at sunset, each mech carrying a small, glowing candle. While the metal that had replaced Starscream’s frame melted, and the pendants were poured, the candles were piled around the statue, and the discarded weaponry.

Optimus and Megatron went first, sharing the ceremony. Their candles, the largest and the tallest, were placed at the very top, on the pedestal at Starscream’s pedes. Thundercracker and Skywarp – grieving a brother – were next, then Soundwave and a newly awakened pack of sparklings, who piled votives around one tall pillar. 

The Seekers took up some ancient farewell hymn and eventually the grounders began humming along. Megatron and Optimus watched it all, still and quiet, from either side of the monument. It was long into the night before the Seekers were done singing and the pendants had cooled. Megatron and Optimus approached each other and clasped their opposing elbows. Time now, to make peace and forge new vows.


	6. The Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I went with six. Sorry. I know my voters said it should be 4, but the plot bunnies hanging off of every limb said 6.

Some days, Starscream swore the universe was against him. His beautiful ocean safe-house had been destroyed in an undersea storm that had leveled half the reef. With his Seekerlets coming, and soon, he had to move on almost as soon as he had synthesized enough fuel to refill his shuttle and picked through the wreckage for anything useful. Aside from some beautiful chunks of coral that would be valuable on other worlds, there wasn’t much. He picked a few shells up for souvenirs and filled a tank with some of the more unique wildlife – the ones he had been hoping to study. It wasn’t a large tank, by Cybertronian standards, but it was large enough to encompass a significant little biome filled with diverse creatures and enough of them to imitate their circle of life. It wasn’t the study he had dreamed of making when he had the house built, but it would do. 

The Seeker continued on his way, counting down the days until he would give birth to his sparklings, traveling towards Tsorelis. He could rent an apartment there until they were born. 

Of course, that meant there were pirates. Why wouldn’t there be pirates? Who didn’t love pirates, with their “arghs” and yo-ho-ho and comically drunk antics?

Starscream. Starscream did not love pirates. Especially not pirates who were his size, organic, and had a taste for mechanicals’ sexual favors. Especially not pirates who could pull a shuttle out of warp speed fast and hard enough to send anything not nailed down tumbling to the floor, including himself. Thank Primus he had had the foresight to mount his observation tank on a wall instead of just setting it on a table or his fascinating little biome would be spilled over the floor.

The pirates docked his shuttle alongside their own, much larger, ship and forced the door open on the airlock.

Starscream came up fighting. Pirates he could deal with. He may have taken a new paintjob and been flying a shuttle that didn’t have weapons, but he was still Starscream. He took the boarding party by surprise and proceeded into the ship, pushing the disgusting organics back with every step. It took a lot out of him – ducking and dodging – but he had lost none of his battlefield reflexes. It helped that he soon had some aid. He reached the brig and found two other transformers there. 

“Hey!” A red grounder who resembled a Praxian strongly threw himself against the bars. “Hey, you’re a Velocitronian! Or a Cybertronian or whatever! Get us out of here!”

Starscream rushed over to the cell door and fiddled with the mechanism, unlocking it. “There we go.” 

The red grounder charged out along with a much larger, blue bruiser. “Thanks. I’m Knock Out and this is Breakdown.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Starscream handed Knockout one of his blasters while Breakdown transformed his servo into a hammer and they went to town on the rest of the aliens who had taken all three of them captive.

When they had secured the bridge, Starscream collapsed into a chair, panting. “…I’m too far along to do scrap like this…” He told Knockout as the other two mechs read the outputs and set the ship on a course for Tsorelis. 

“Too far along…?” Knockout bent over him and checked his spark beat, taking a scan of the Seeker. “Primus, you’re with spark!”

“No, really?” Starscream patted his bulging chest plates. “Kind of you to notice.”

“You should be in berth, you have six sparklings on the way!”

…Frag him. “Six?” Starscream squeaked. 

“Yes, six!” Knockout replied. “Breakdown, carry him!” 

Breakdown lifted the Seeker out of the chair and followed Knock Out down the corridor to the Captain’s cabin, where he laid the Seeker on the lush, spicy-scented berth. “…Here you go.”

“You get some rest.” Knockout ordered. “We’ll bring you some energon later.”

“All right, all right.” In all honesty, Starscream was too tired to argue. The fight had taken too much of his reserves and he needed to recharge. Further, he wanted to be fussed over and taken care of for a change.

 

When Starscream woke up, Knockout had brought out his diagnostic equipment and was running scans over the Seeker’s frame. “So, what’s your story, stranger? How did you end up fragged eight ways to paradise?”

Starscream sighed and began fabricating. “My name is Nightwish. I’m fleeing the Cybertronian Civil War.”

“Cybertron is having internal problems? Well, what can you do? Not everywhere is as civilized as Velocitron.”

Breakdown came in carrying Starscream’s fish tank with ease and began mounting it on the wall here in the captain’s cabin. “I cleaned out the bodies, Knockout. Hey, stranger, nice to see you awake. You had us worried.”

“…How long has it been?” Starscream turned to Knockout.

“Most of two cycles. Here, drink this and take these supplements.” Knockout handed him a cube of energon and some metallic pills. “You have to be getting ready to give birth, it’s their last chance to get a good boost before they emerge.”

“Thanks.” Starscream knocked the supplements and energon back, sitting up. “What’s happened?”

“We’re on our way to Tseloris, but our engines are damaged: A few of the pirates tried to make fast in the engine room and Breakdown had to take care of it.” Knockout explained. “I repaired them as much as I could, but we can’t go to full speed right now. I think we’re going to have to accept that your sparklings will emerge in space.”

“I can repair the engines.” Starscream made to stand up. 

Knockout restrained him. “For now, all you should be concentrating on is resting and putting some final weight on those sparklings. I’ll get you some more energon in a bit. I’ve already taken readings and scans and decided on a finishing schedule and diet for you.”

“Huh?” The Seeker questioned blankly. 

“A finishing schedule! Something to help you be in prime shape for when it’s time to deliver.”

Starscream laid back on the pillow, pulled the blankets over his helm, and blocked out the insanity.

 

Breakdown and Knockout were dedicated nurses, Starscream would give them that. Breakdown brought over all of his personal effects from the shuttle, including the locked chest where Starscream had stashed everything he had salvaged from his own quarters – though he had had to leave most of his things behind – and from the ocean house. It seemed the two mechs were determined to make this ship into a home and, given that they had the right of salvage, Starscream couldn’t bring himself to disagree. It was a large, but fast freighter with more than enough room to raise sparklings… even… six.

Starscream had sobbed several times while musing on the large number. Primus, Megatron and Optimus were fragging him over even now.

It didn’t help that Knockout was still pestering him about the “finishing diet” he wanted the Seeker to follow. Starscream surrendered amiably to the energon and supplements, but staying in berth was too much for him. He needed to be up and about and walking. 

Also, somehow he had become the Captain of the ship, had he mentioned that?

“Really, you should be resting, herr commandant.” Knockout told Starscream as he helped him repairing the engines.

“I am fine, Knockout.” Starscream told the over-active doctor. “Look, I’m even lying down!” And he was, on a dolly beneath an engine block, with his servos buried in the engine, piecing the circuitry back together.

“All right. But if you feel the slightest bit dizzy, back into berth!” For a captain, he did allow a lot of insubordination on his ship.

“Go help Breakdown organize the cargo. I’ll be fine.” Starscream told Knockout. The pirates had amassed quite a hoard of small prizes. If it were sold, it would make for a solid chunk of change. Now that he had a ship, Starscream was reluctant to reveal exactly how well off he was to Breakdown and Knockout. There was something slippery about the red speedster, though he seemed earnest enough about taking care of the sparklings. In any case the ship would need a refit, and even if Starscream repaired this engine, there was a second one that had been broken open for parts for this first one long before they got there. The point of all this being, with access to his full resources limited, money was going to be tight for a while, but when was it not?

He rubbed his chassis. “I’ll still make sure you all have the very best I can offer.”

At least they had plenty of fuel. Knockout had chop-shopped one of Starscream’s converters to the ship’s systems to convert some of the energy the nuclear reactor gave off into fuel for all of them, and if Starscream managed to repair this engine, they would be at their destination and picking up a refit in no time. Knockout and Breakdown seemed ready to make the ship their home, and Starscream wasn’t going to argue. He had been worried, the slightest bit, about finding other Cybertronians when his children were looking for mechs to mate with and have their own families, but according to Knockout, not only were Cybertronians present in the wider galaxy, but there were three known colonies, all in contact with each other: Divisien, Velocitron, and Eukaris. There were rumors of other colonies as well, and there was a whole galaxy to explore to find them.

He was contented with the situation, for now, Knockout and Breakdown were his allies and crew. 

 

Starscream was taking notes on one of the rays he had picked up on Aquatica. It was a speckled, pinkish thing that blended perfectly with the coral sand except for its wide, dark eyes. He had three of these rays, swimming in this little habitat. So far, they had been quiet citizens, but this one was resting against the side of the tank for some reason, attached by some suction to the side. It was odd behavior, worthy of note.

Suddenly, his sparklings turned over and his tank began loosening and moving upwards. Starscream heaved a puff of air and turned to lie down on the berth. “KNOCKOUT!” He cried out for the doctor, who came running, half polished and with a buffer in his servo.

“They’re coming, herr commandant?” Knockout took in his position. “Surely… your knees might be a more comfortable position?”

“Knockout, I’m a Seeker!” Starscream hissed as he opened his spark chamber. “Just be on hand in case I start bleeding out!”

Knockout hovered as the pods began emerging. He had been right: There were six of them. It felt like it was never going to end. It didn’t hurt, and each one was ejected quickly, but the strange, tickling sensation was something Starscream could have done without.

Knockout moved to snatch up the first pod, but Starscream held out a servo. “Wait! Their wings have to stiffen first!” He warned the medic, looking down at a gold spark inside of the transparent blue and pink pod. Optimus’s child – of course it was first. It was the twins from the blue sparklet who emerged next, in a single pod together. Then the one from Megatron’s sea green sparklet, then… tragedy.

Knockout was observing carefully as each Seekerlet stretched its wings and broke through the pod. As soon as each had wriggled free of the remains of their berth, he snatched it up and wiped it clean, polishing the birth fluids – and vital antibodies – into their plating. When the twins from the red sparklet dropped free, he was just finishing Megatron’s first child and placing him gently in a padded nest of blankets next to his Carrier. 

“…Nightwish, this pod isn’t lit up like the others.” Knockout commented as he examined the sparklings. They were already opaque. “And they’re not moving.”

Starscream lifted his helm to look, optics dimming in sadness. “That’s because they’re dead, Knockout.” He slipped his servos beneath the pod and held it gently, cradled in his servos.

“You’re good to go, herr commandant.” Knockout picked up a length of fabric and held it out. “The lost ones, if you will.”

Starscream first pricked open the pod and listened for any sign of spark functioning at each little chest. Red. Why had his red sparklet had to divide? Everyone knew that was the weakest, lowest output color. It was hubris for a red sparklet to try and divide itself. 

“Herr commandant, if there’s any doubt, please, allow me.” Knockout took the limp bodies and pressed them to his sensitive audials, running a complete scan. “Nothing, Nightwish. I’m so sorry.” Knockout made to put them down again, but Starscream was nothing if not dogged. He took them back and placed each one beside his spark chamber. It was an old Seeker trick for a sparkling with a guttering spark. If it could only work…

“Her commandant, this is not a time to attempt suicide.” Knockout picked up Optimus’s sparkling and offered him to the Seeker to distract him. “You haven’t even named the others yet, and a short that close to your spark-“ 

Before the doctor could finish his warning, one of the Sparklings sneezed. Knockout was a doctor with a firm and steady grip, he would never drop something out of sheer shock, but still, his faceplates said it all as he settled the oldest sparkling back on the berth. “Son of a glitch…” He whispered, leaning close to the Seekerlets as they became transparent next to their Carrier’s spark. “How are you doing that?”

“It works sometimes, when the sparkling isn’t too far gone.” Starscream told him, strained slightly by the drain on his sown spark. “The Carrier’s spark can bolster the little one’s, help them. If they can just get enough energy to hold on…” He grunted softly.

“…Careful.” Knockout began scanning the Seeker in front of him again. “Hold them there too long, and they’ll drag you over the edge. I’m going to give you a countdown and then you absolutely have to take them away from your spark.”

Starscream kept his audials on Knockout, holding his babies next to his lifeforce until the very last instant, then dragging away with an effort.

“Was it enough?” Starscream panted, holding out the two tiny babies to Knock Out as he examined their wings and darkening plating. “Will they live?” He collapsed back onto the pillow beside his others. He had given everything to those two.

Knockout looked up from the sparklings with a look of awe. “…They’ll live.” 

Starscream heaved a great sigh of relief and shuttered his optics. “…I was worried.” 

Knockout, meanwhile, was having an existential crisis. “People have to know about this!” He exclaimed. “Restarting a stillborn’s spark? It’s too good to be true!” He laid the sparklings gently beside Starscream as he paced the room. “Do you realize what this means?”

Starscream let Knockout rant as he gathered his Seekerlets to him. Six little ones.

Breakdown came in with energon for the new Carrier and Knockout practically attacked him, jabbering about miracles. The wrecker and the Seeker exchanged looks and Breakdown shrugged, leaving two cubes of energon beside Starscream. “I’ll just take him and calm him down.” He told Starscream. “You rest up and enjoy your sparklings.”

“Thanks, Breakdown.” Starscream cracked open one of the cubes while Breakdown dragged Knockout out.

Starscream turned to his six, and thanked Primus that it wasn’t four. Touching each of their helms, he took Optimus’s child in his servos and examined him. He had kibble for both a Seeker and a convoy: A triple changer. His plating was mostly white with Optimus’s blue helm and servos and red stripes on his wings. “Hello, Orion.” Starscream whispered to him and kissed his helm. 

The Seekers’s cockpit was already transforming, the seats and control boards moving aside and vanishing into subspace, creating a chamber for the sparklings, with magnetized flooring to hold them in place and two lines of three energon lines for them to suckle at. Orion latched onto a line and began sucking the life-giving fuel into his little tanks. 

Megatron’s sparkling was next. He had kibble for both a tank and a Seeker. A second triple changer. “Hello, Engelfire.” Starscream nuzzled him and laid him beside Orion. He stroked both. “You two play nicely now. I don’t want any fights. You’re going to be best friends.” 

Engelfire and Orion were definitely more interested in energon and recharge than fighting, to Starscream’s gratitude. 

The blue-sparked twins were next. Starscream examined them carefully, but his optics refused to believe what he was seeing: Treads, wings, cannons, masks, and tires… These two were quadruple changers, and they had inherited their Sires colors. They could claim both Megatron and Optimus as their Sires. How had that happened?

“Solis and Disi.” Starscream named them. “My unique children.” He nuzzled them and chirred when they peeped back, sleepily. They went right into the cockpit beneath their brothers and curled up, eschewing the energon lines for now.

Finally, his delicate, red-sparked, fragile little children. “You two gave me quite a scare, loves.” He murmured to the two Seekerlets. They didn’t have the grounder features their brothers had. Now that they had their colors, one was pink and gold with touches of coral and lavender. “Hello, Dawnseer.” Starscream laid the little one in his cockpit and stroked his back. The second was white, red, and blue: His own colors. In fact, they looked exactly the same and his spark melted for the little Seekerlet. “I will name you Rigel.” He told the child, pressing his little frame to his cheek. “And you will all be big, strong, swift flyers. Even if some of you do have tank in you.” He stroked his triple and quad changing children to take away any imagined sting.

His expression was soft and happy as he smiled down at his open cockpit. “I love you all.”


	7. Nightwish

Cybertron was a mess.

Optimus had known that since before he took up an axe to fight, before he was Prime.

But to be told the planet he had loved, had strived to protect for so long was dying? This was too much.

“There’s nothing we can do, Wheeljack? What if we managed to move Cybertron to a different star?” Their sun was half the problem, from what Optimus understood. If they could get Cybertron orbiting around a new sun, energy collection would resume with ease, away from the weak, red sun that they orbited.

“Our sun is only half the problem, Optimus.” Shockwave explained, calling up a graphic. “Cybertron itself is not stable. Vector Sigma, at the heart of the planet, has ceased functioning and we lack the skill to fix it.” 

“…Then our only recourse is complete evacuation?” Optimus heavily rested his forehelm on his servo, trying to wrap his processor around the idea.

“And quickly.” Wheeljack agreed. “By my estimates, Cybertron will be nothing but a rust ball in only a few more decavorns. We have to put everything into constructing ships and scouting for a new planet and we have to do it now or we won’t have a chance of survival.”

Shockwave gestured out of the window. “Many of the less-informed Cybertronians have taken the end of the war to mean a return to prosperity. There is talk of families, sparklings, and a new generation. Cybertron’s capabilities will not support that generation. We require a decision, Prime. From you and Lord Protector Megatron.”

“…I will speak to the Lord Protector when he returns from the most recent resource consolidation.” Optimus agreed. “But he will not be happy with the verdict. It may take some time to convince him.”

“I can start in on designs for the transports at the least.” Wheeljack replied. “It’ll give me something to do besides obsess.”

“Lord Megatron is a student of history.” Shockwave suggested. “Remind him that this planet we stand upon is not our original home, but a created planet of a long-past golden age. This is not a new event.” Shockwave and Wheeljack left Prime to muse over how he was going to explain that to Megatron.

It had only been a few decacycles since the war had ended, and every cycle was bittersweet. Optimus watched the wildflowers wither and the grasses grow sick with the rust that was consuming their planet. The remaining flowers reached up for energy from an unfeeling sun and starved for lack of it. The sight would have depressed Starscream, but by now their sparklings would have been born, and he would probably have been distracted.

“You’re thinking about him again.” Megatron’s voice could be oddly accusing still where Starscream was concerned. With the bright Seeker out of the way, he had opened courtship with Soundwave – never let it be said that Megatron stood idle. 

“I am thinking about Cybertron as a whole.” Optimus told Megatron. “So, yes, in a way I am thinking about him.” He gestured at the growing expanse of red visible from Iacon. “What is Cybertron, Megatron?”

“Cybertron is the planet under my feet, the air beneath my props, and the ground under my treads.” Megatron looked over the planet. Since the war’s end, he had reclaimed some of his old alt-mode while retaining that of the powerful attack helicopter. Optimus was considering acquiring wings himself, but thought it would be unwise and unnecessary at the moment.

“…Cybertron is a people.” Optimus whispered to the window. “An adaptive, incredible people with an uncanny ability to survive.”

“…This is about Shockwave’s idea that we must evacuate.” Megatron cottoned with a flash and waved it away. “Slag. All the planet needs is care and strength.”

“The rust is spreading, Megatron. Soon there won’t be a plant alive on the surface. It will cover our homes, choke the air and the animals, and then our people will die, Megatron.” Optimus turned to him, optics blazing in that anger that was reserved specifically for the warlord. “And Starscream – and our sparklings – will rust away beneath a lake of metal for nothing.” He bit the last word off fiercely.

Megatron’s plating shifted and clicked. “Starscream fought for this planet-“

“Starscream fought for life!” Optimus cut him off. “And you know it.”

Megatron was silenced and turned his back. “…Fine. So, we will run.”

“We will immigrate, Megatron. Move. Our race has done it before.” Optimus seized the opening. “And someday, we will do it again. This planet we stand on was formed by someone else, poured out into a mold and regulated with a super computer unlike anything we could ever hope to match. It was not always here, and it will eventually rust down into a ball. That’s the way of things.”

“It shouldn’t be.” Megatron closed a fist hard. “Life is change, yes, but there are constants. There are always constants!”

“This is our constant: Our people will survive.”

 

Optimus watched as Wheeljack unveiled their first Star Cruisers. It had been a hard announcement, a harder vorn. “The first ships are ready, Prime. I’d like to recommend that we send soldiers first, and scientists, to scout for a new home suitable to our needs.”

“Assemble a team, Wheeljack. Make sure you take from both factions equally.” He cautioned the engineer. “Try not to add fuel to the fire.” He and Megatron were staying behind until the last ships were ready – that they had agreed upon with ease. So, the question of who would go first had really been the hardest. Megatron had nominated Shockwave and – to Optimus’s surprise – Soundwave. 

“I am not trying to get rid of you.” Optimus overheard Megatron. “I simply want you to be safe. That and I don’t trust Wheeljack. He’s reckless. You’ll keep him in check. I can’t trust Shockwave to do that. Primus knows, Shockwave has his own insane moments.”

The warlord and Soundwave were apparently having an argument in the relative privacy of a side-corridor. “You’ve lost enough to this war. More than I have. You shouldn’t lose anymore of your brood to the reconstruction.”

Soundwave considered Megatron with his large, silent optics and then nodded. “Soundwave: Understands.” The spindly mech’s voice was spoken through a scrambler of some sort and sounded both harmonic and electronic. 

“Good.” Megatron touched his wing. “Remain in touch, Soundwave.”

Optimus turned away from the touching scene and retreated to a balcony to stare out over Iacon and think. 

Shockwave found him there. “Optimus Prime.” He had a telescope and an ancient book in each servo. “Come to do some stargazing of your own?” The scientist questioned, setting the telescope up and bracing the book on the railing.

“In a way.” Optimus sighed.

“Ah. Then it’s Starscream on your mind again.” Shockwave gave him a searching look with one optic. “Don’t blame Lord Megatron for choosing another mech so soon.”

“How did you…?”

“I passed them in the corridor on my way here.” Shockwave explained. “And here you are, Star-gazing. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”

Optimus pushed himself upright. “…How can he do it? How can he forget him so easily?”

“Starscream and Lord Megatron were not a couple, Optimus.” The scientist calibrated the telescope. “Not in the sense that he and you were, apparently. Soundwave was always Megatron’s favorite.”

“But Megatron was-“

“Yes, he was devastated at Starscream’s death.” Shockwave peered through his telescope, one claw running along the pages of the book. “But his emotions peaked when you spoke of the sparkling. Megatron does not see other beings the way you do, Optimus. He believed Starscream was his, learning he was never entirely his was the major cause of his distress.”

“So, Soundwave is a suitable replacement then.” Optimus bitterly straightened himself.

“After a fashion. They were, after all, brothers.”

Optimus jerked, almost falling. “What!?”

“Soundwave was Starscream’s brother near the beginning of the war.” Shockwave casually explained. “Soundwave – who was called Nightwish at the time – was injured grievously and I had to use experimental methods to save him. Why did you think he went to such lengths to hide his identity?”

“I thought it was because that was how he was born.”

“Mmm. Well, I suppose there’s no real way you could have known. I don’t think even Starscream did.”

Optimus hummed noncommittally, thinking. “Good night, Shockwave.”

“Good night, Optimus.”


	8. A History Lesson

Six sparklings would be demanding under any circumstance. They took so much energon that Starscream was drinking nearly double the amount he normally did and he still had to have supplements to ensure they had plenty of metals. It wouldn’t be the first time he wished one of their Sires was here to help him. Megatron certainly could sacrifice a few kilograms of nanites to his voracious children and Optimus would probably consider it an honor to hold and nurture them. 

As it was, he had to make do with Knockout and Breakdown and himself. 

“You’re so light.” Breakdown whispered to one of the Seekerlets – Rigel. “I’m beyond words… and I don’t know why.”

“Breakdown’s always loved sparklings.” Knockout told Starscream, refilling his cube and setting a tray of supplements beside him. “Two copper, today, and continuing if this keeps up. I’m worried about their internal wiring. I’m not sure how Seeker’s develop exactly, but my scans are picking up a lot of activity in their emotional centers.”

“That’s typical. Seekers develop instinctual learning and social abilities before they gain logic and critical skills.” Starscream replied, sipping the energon. “But given how fast our development is, it’s not really surprising. We have less time to form bonds between our families, and those bonds are vital for healthy functioning.”

“These six have been growing like fiends. Three times faster than any Velocitronian sparkling.” Knockout picked up Dawnseer and opened the datapad he was using to track each of the sparklings’ growth. “This one’s put on another kilo since yesterday, and she’s slow compared to this big boy.” He hefted Engelfire, the red and grey triple. “Three kilos in a day: I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“They’ll settle down once they start walking.” Starscream explained. “When they wean off my frame, it’ll slow down some.”

“Why is that? Just a quirk of your frametype?” Knockout questioned, setting Engelfire back down and reaching for Solis and Disi. 

“I guess you could say that.” Starscream agreed, shrugging. “A long, long time ago… who knows, maybe it was always that way… Cybertron was taken over by a religious movement called the Functionists. They divided it into a society based upon frametype. Naturally, given that the first of these mechs was a Convoy, they were at the top, and Seekers like me? We were at the bottom.”

“Sounds awful. And familiar.” Knockout sat down on a chair and listened. “…Tell me more.” 

Breakdown had stopped twiddling Rigel’s wings to make him giggle and looked up, listening. 

“The Functionist’s reinterpretation of the Primal words gave Nova Prime the license he needed to treat my frametype like slaves and garbage. He invaded our city and crushed it, in spite of valiant resistance by heroes… who became martyrs in the streets they had once walked. Vos was once a floating city, lifted by magnetic forces and even mobile, over the plains and the oceans. It was unique, built out of crystal and carved from Cybertron directly.” Starscream murmured to Orion. “…We were a proud frame, mechs of art and science… Good at, but not given to, war.”

At the mention of “mobile,” Breakdown turned to Knockout and the two mechs raised their optical ridges. Starscream’s tale was resonating with something within them.

“When Nova brought Vos to the ground – with the help of the shuttles from Tetrahex – it was a symbol: The end of an era. The Functionists created a society that ground mechs down. Everyone had someone else to step on. But us? The Seekers? We were at the bottom. And it was with us that Nova – and Zeta after him – began his experiments.”

“What kind of experiments?”

“We were not so common in those days.” Starscream frowned deeply. “Though it seems hard to imagine now… A Seeker back then was something to see, a mech of fearful beauty. Those days are gone. Nova didn’t want artistry, he wanted soldiers and slaves: Lots of them. The first thing he did was add aphrodisiacs and fertility drugs to every energon supply. Vos turned into a breeding pit, and no one old enough to have had their first cyclical transition was safe from it.” 

Breakdown and Knockout’s optics blew wide and they looked down at the sparklings.

“No, not them. I came later.” Starscream stroked Orion’s back. “The second phase was growth drugs: Steroids and hormone treatments. There were so many of those and the fertility drugs used that they eventually became a part of our genetic makeup. And by the time Nova was ready to begin his great works projects, there was a veritable army of young, starving Seekers clamoring to understand what was happening and to get out of the starving city. We built Iacon on our backs, transported the tons of stone he needed to build his palace, and raised Praxus from a dusty little copy to something truly magnificent.”

“That’s barbaric.” Knockout snapped, standing agitatedly. “This Nova must have been a monster of- of- incomprehensible magnitude!”

“Yes.” Starscream’s optics blazed. “But he was a respected monster by every mech except for those he stepped on. History remembers Nova as a builder of cities, not the breeder of slaves.”

The Doctor threw a cube at the wall and stomped out. Breakdown recovered himself from his silent staring and went to clean it up, letting Starscream put his growing sparklings back where they belonged: His cockpit, where Engelfire assaulted one of his fuel lines again.


	9. Soundwave's Journey

“Soundwave.” The Prime called to the telepath. It was directly after his conversation with Shockwave and catching Soundwave was a blessing from Primus. “I need to speak with you.”

Soundwave had turned and acknowledged him with a nod. “Soundwave: Listening.”

“I know you were Starscream’s brother.” Optimus cut to the chase. “Do you know who his friends were? His relatives?”

Soundwave nodded, over his initial shock. 

“Make sure they get placed on the roster for the Colony ships.” Optimus ordered him quietly. “That includes yourself.”

Soundwave’s faceplate flashed briefly.

“Yes, it’s an order.” Optimus sighed, pinching his nasal vent. “Primus… I really knew nothing of him, did I? Not even who his relations were. I assumed he was an orphan, alone.” He turned away. “Don’t mind me, Soundwave, just make sure everyone he loved is on those ships.”

“Task: Impossible.” Soundwave’s monotone told the Prime’s back.

“Why?” Optimus turned back to the spymaster, infinitely tired of hearing or thinking the word ‘Impossible.’

Soundwave unfastened his mask, pulling it off to reveal the faceplates beneath. They were startlingly similar to Starscream’s, but for the warping that spoke of a burn that had never healed properly. “Because you are determined to remain here, until the last ships go.” The spymaster replied, almost quietly. “And he loved you.”

Optimus turned from the slim, quiet mech. “…How can that be? I knew he felt something, but… I was insurance, Soundwave. If the war went to the Autobots, I would have been the key to his survival. I went along with it because I… loved him. But the reverse isn’t necessarily true.”

Soundwave gently touched the Prime’s arm. “He ran from it. Emotions, conscience, morality… He was tired, Optimus. Tired and afraid of losing someone else, or himself. Death terrifies him. He was never a coward, but there was no room for empty heroism or partisan loyalty in his spark. Perhaps in a better time… he might have abandoned Lord Megatron to become your second, but after everything that has happened, he couldn’t give himself so completely. Not anymore.”

“Some of the everything was you, wasn’t it?” Optimus questioned in a voice that was almost barbed. “Why didn’t you tell him who you are?”

“When he saw me fall into the smelter, he dragged me out and to Shockwave as a last resort.” Soundwave replied quietly. “He knew Shockwave would make me into what I am, that the scientist would never settle for just saving me. If I know my brother, he did know who I was, but couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it.” Soundwave put his mask back on, but didn’t activate the vocal scrambler. “Out of respect for our memories, and the desire to spare him further distress, I kept my identity an unspoken secret between us and took on a new name. I knew he was seeing you and Lord Megatron. I knew about every one of his contingencies and protected them and him. In return, he protected me – in his way – from Megatron’s wrath, taking my mistakes as his and carrying full responsibility for those under him, including myself. As a result, he practically laid the foundation for my relationship with Lord Megatron – a circumstance I am completely satisfied with.”

“Primus… I’m sorry, Soundwave.” Optimus straightened up and looked down into the inscrutable, black glass. “I lost a lover… But you’ve lost your brother. I shouldn’t have forgotten that.”

“You’ve lost your mate. And the children he was carrying.” Soundwave set his arm comfortingly on Optimus’s. “Perhaps, someday, when it stings less, we can talk more about him. For now, I will obey your order, and I will leave on a scouting vessel. I have business in the wider galaxy myself.”

 

Optimus Prime and Megatron watched the two newly christened ships rising out of their docks and into the air: The Ark, and The Lost Light. Each one carried two hundred mechs of both factions and each went in a different direction, exploring and searching for a planet they could call theirs. 

“Into the stars they go, The ships that reach for the night, Where will they land their prows? And will they have to fight?” Megatron murmured under his breath.

“Taking up poetry again?” Optimus turned, addressing him politely. There had been an argument that had almost ended in blows earlier and everyone was walking on eggshells about them. 

“I’m afraid I’m rusty.” Megatron replied, turning to face his co-ruler. “I was trying to write a few verses for Starscream’s tomb, but I couldn’t find the words.”

“You’re out of practice. It happens.” The Prime turned from the cheering crowd, watching the scout ships soaring into the black. He had ensured that everyone Starscream had even remotely cared for was on one of those two ships.

“Too much swordplay, too little wordplay, and the tongue grows dull.” Megatron walked in lock-step beside him. “Incidentally, have you seen Soundwave and his brats? They never showed up for the christening.”

“They were due to leave on the Lost Light with Rodimus.” Optimus replied, knowing the lists by spark.

“No, there was a last second replacement. He rearranged the lists and sent Tarn in his stead this morning.”

Optimus froze, staring at Megatron. “What? Where is he, then? I could have sworn I saw him on the launchpad, boarding!”

“Oh, Primus.” Megatron planted his faceplates firmly in one servo. “That means he’s gone off somewhere... Where would he go?”

 

Soundwave, had he been at Megatron’s side, would have been able to answer that question easily. He knew exactly where he was and what he would do: Dig up a contingency of his own. 

Starscream was not the only one capable of hiding a long-range shuttle from Lord Megatron, though the fact that he had hidden three had impressed the spymaster, even with his unasked for and unquestioned help. 

Soundwave had his Creations in his chassis, tucked away again. They would have compromised his escape had they been active. It was less an escape, though, and more of a rescue. Time to rescue Starscream from his own stubbornness and Optimus from an undeserved burden of grief. 

The scouting expeditions did not require a telepath. Finding a suitably placed, uninhabited planet to cyberform and begin anew on would not be so difficult. Shockwave would be more than enough to guide the Ark on its mission, and Rodimus had the extremely capable Perceptor to aid him. But searching for one mech in a galaxy, further, one that didn’t want to be found, this was a worthy challenge. He knew where Starscream had kept his safehouses and his accounts, but the Seeker would doubtless see the folly of keeping his original plan with six newsparks to look after. Most likely, he was looking for a mobile space station or even a freighter with a mechanical captain. If he knew his brother, he would rake his scattered fortune into a pile, withdraw all of it, and leave no trace, so there was no use following the money. 

Soundwave activated the shuttle’s thrusters and headed into the black, keeping his promise to Optimus Prime as a third Cybertronian scouting shuttle headed into the galaxy. He might even do some actual scouting while he was at it.


	10. Tsorelis

In the meantime, Starscream and his motley crew finally reached Tsorelis. 

Tsorelis was comparable to some bizarre compilation of Iacon and Vos. It made Starscream uncomfortable, even as he left Breakdown and Knockout to dispose of the pirates’ cargo and find a shipyard for their needed repairs. Walking up the steps to the central bank and through a door designed for species his size, he only became more uncomfortable. So much wealth, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be a mistake to leave it where Knockout might find it. It needed to be tied up in something solid, something that wouldn’t be easy to steal and wouldn’t decrease in value. At the same time, he would need easy-to-servo cash at the ready in case of emergencies with his sparklings. Two instincts were at war within his spark. 

Perhaps the smartest course of action would be to take out a little now, and use that to bolster their refitting operation and provide for the immediate needs of his children, and leave the rest where it was, tucked away to accumulate interest. That, though, was a money trail. One that a smart mech might follow back to him. 

The only mech he could think of, though, who might try was Soundwave. He was in no danger from the telepath, stomping down his memories of the original mech who had born the name Nightwish.

For now, the sparklings were behaving, so he needed to make a decision soon. Tapping one pede nervously, he stepped up to the secretary’s desk and crouched slightly to address the much shorter alien. “I’m here to see Mr. Bingle, my accountant.” He told the bulbous little thing.

“Do you have an appointment?” She was clearly juggling three different tasks in her various arms and viewed him more as an obstacle than a potentially powerful patron. 

“No, this is a walk in. Will you tell him a mech called Starscream is enquiring? I’ll wait.” Starscream clanked over the stone floor to an oversized chair and thanked Primus for the diversity of Tsorelis. 

The secretary waited fifteen minutes before making a comm to Mr. Bingle and it was thirty minutes more before Mr. Bingle himself came out, escorting a mechanical couple who were leaning towards each other and muttering quietly to each other, worrying over something. 

“Mr. Starscream!” Mr. Bingle called to him. “Come right into my office! This is a bit of a surprise, but I have some time before my next appointment!” With the discreet professionalism the bank was known for, he whisked Starscream back to his office and offered him a variety of fuels, metallic treats, and oils for his enjoyment. “This is our first meeting in person, and I must say, the camera simply does not do you justice.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bingle.” Starscream sat across from the accountant. “I imagine you must see a lot of people of different sizes.” He took note of the barely-visible transformation seams around the office and nodded to himself. It had to be an adjustable office for every different customer.

“Oh, only my fair share. Very few with as impressive a profile as yours. Taking advantage of interest, I see. As well as… what did you say you were employed as?”

“For now, that isn’t important. I’m… between careers currently.”

“Oh, my. No trouble, I trust.” Mr. Bingle brought out a file of Starscream’s data and shuffled the papers – impossible to hack and never crashing. 

“None at all. Merely going into business for myself and looking to secure my fortune for my sparklings.” Starscream let his cockpit become transparent, displaying his young. Bingle was a Telvoraan, and young were as important to them as they were to Seekers. Knowing there were children involved would motivate him to do his best for Starscream.

Bingle made a cooing noise that almost jingled in his throat. “Little ones!” He exclaimed in surprise, adjusting his spectacles. “Do you want to create a trust for them?” He shuffled more papers and looked into a drawer, pulling out another portfolio. “I can get my colleague, Mr. Temple, to help us draw up legal documents as well, relating to ensuring your property is smoothly transferred to them and protecting them from any debts you may incur in future.”

“Sounds good to me.” Starscream agreed. “What should we do first?”

It was a long afternoon full of legal jargon that Starscream had to run through his processor twice before he understood it, but at the end, he felt much better. Not only had he secured trust funds for each of his children, but he had made a will – and that felt unreasonably good, not the idea that he would die some day, but having something to leave – and Mr. Temple had recommended a shipyard with an excellent refitter that dealt with “special” ships all the time. In other words, hiding places and smuggling cabins. Perfect for dealing with questionably legal cargoes and slippery subordinates alike.

 

The Seeker returned to find Knockout and Breakdown had just finished wheeling and dealing, with a case in one hand – a case with his withdrawal. “Herr commandant.” Knockout sketched a salute and handed Starscream their receipts for his approval. “How did your business go in town?”

“Very well.” Starscream nodded. “I was able to procure a recommendation for a refitting operation and the credits to pay for it.” He lifted the case slightly. “We’re to go to a Masters Nautica and Brainstorm.”

“We saw a sign for them.” Knockout recalled. “Where was that, Breakdown?”

“It was at the Go-Lucky Tavern back a pace.” Breakdown pointed. 

“That would be where we need to go to acquire their services. Apparently, they don’t run a large enough operation to merit a full yard.” Starscream had been suspicious when Temple told him that, but he had assured him it was because of the quality of their work and the price they charged that they could afford to lay low between jobs. Finding them was half the battle.

“That sounds slightly suspicious. Do you trust the guys who gave you this recommendation?” Knockout questioned, falling in beside Starscream as he headed for the Go-Lucky. 

“I trust them enough, and I won’t be paying upfront.” Starscream grinned down at the red racer. “Give me some credit to understand how contractors work.”

“Of course, Nightwish, what was I thinking?” Knockout rolled his optics and Starscream shook his helm, smirking to himself. 

 

Nautica and Brainstorm weren’t hard to find. They were the only Cybertronians in the Go Lucky – another reason they had been recommended – and they looked up when Starscream swaggered over with his dark red paint and white making him stand out from the rest of the crowd.

“You here looking for a fight or a tumble?” The blue one with the facemask was a Seeker – which made Starscream slightly nervous. The purple one with the visor smacked him.

“Brainstorm, that’s not polite.” The purple one was Nautica, then. “Sorry for my friend, we don’t see many Cybertronians around here.”

“That’s fine.” Starscream waved it off. “It was less abrasive than some of the greetings I’ve had in my time.”

“Oh, really? I’ll have to try harder next time.” Brainstorm pulled out a gadget from inside his subspace. “My Insult Scanner must be malfunctioning.”

“Insult scanner?” Starscream blankly questioned, sitting down at the table with Knockout while Breakdown went to get drinks for them all.

“Imagine it!” Brainstorm launched into a sales pitch with abandon. “With the touch of a button, it tells you exactly how to get someone’s goat!” He showed Starscream the egg-shaped device with its screen.

“That sounds incredibly useful.” Starscream looked down at it curiously. “How does it work?”

“It detects fluctuations in your EM field-“ Brainstorm launched off on a monologue while Nautica rolled her optics.

“Anyway, you came and found us for a reason.” She interrupted Brainstorm to address Starscream. “So, what do you want?”

“My name is Captain Nightwish, and I have a ship in need of refitting.” Starscream folded his servos on the table.

“Well, you came to the right place.” Nautica leaned closer, both mechs preparing to wheel and deal. “What’s on your processor?”

Breakdown set a round of engex drinks down in the center of the table and settled in as Starscream and Nautica bargained, with specifications and a list of repairs, dreams and desires. 

“Of course, all of this is completely nonsensical if you can’t pay.” Nautica leaned back, grabbing the mug Breakdown had brought her. “So, can you?”

“In cash, upon completion of the project.” Starscream sipped his own. It barely qualified as engex. “What do you say then? We have a deal?”

“That depends. Let’s talk about the front fee.” Nautica began digging in her dentea. 

Starscream held up a servo. “Let me stop you right there: I am not paying you a credit up front. As the project progresses, I’ll pay you for parts and materials, but your fee – that comes later. I know how contractors operate.”

“Come on, Nightwish, you can’t just cut us out like that. Me and Brainstorm have to live somehow while we’re working on your ship.” Nautica wheedled. 

“You’ll take your room and board with me, where I can keep an optic on you. On the ship.” Nightwish flatly stated. “And there won’t be any complaining.”

“Real taskmaster, aren’t you?” Nautica sighed, pitching back her mug. “Fine. Work’s been thin enough, I’m willing to make some concessions, but we’ll want a hefty bonus at the end.”

“I’m sure I can think of something.” Starscream pitched back his mug and stood up, putting a few credits on the table. “If you’re ready, we can leave now.”

“Right behind you, Captain.” Brainstorm bounded to his pedes and continued his long jabbering session on his Insult Scanner as if he had never been interrupted. “But we’ll have to go pick up our labor and parts, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. The ship is large enough to house twelve of you.”

“Funny you say that…” Nautica drawled. 

“Really?” Starscream incredulously turned to her.

“No, but I often compare them to a good dozen mechs on a bad day.” Nautica flipped out a wrench in one servo and twirled it. “Let’s put it this way: There’s two of them, but they make enough noise for twelve.”

“Oh, joy.” Starscream rolled his optics. Engelfire, of course, chose that moment to begin squeaking and chirping for momma. “Hush you.” He addressed his cockpit, opening it a crack and reaching in to stroke his wings and tickle his little helm.

“Sparklings?” Nautica glanced down into the partially opened cockpit. 

“Six of them.” Starscream replied evenly, soothing Disi now that his brother had woken him up. 

“I’m so jealous. Skids won’t even talk about having them.” Nautica sighed and wistfully looked ahead. 

“That’s a shame. Maybe being around mine will sway him.” 

“I hope so.” The two Carrier mechs chattered on about sparklings while they walked towards Nautica and Brainstorm’s home.


	11. The Ark

Blurr sped along the corridors of the Ark, practically vibrating apart at the seams with excitement. Adventure, excitement, and new experiences: He relished these. The end of the war itself had been a new experience for the racer and special ops agent. Zipping around a corner, he collided with one of the newest, though certainly less exciting than fearful developments. His optics followed the grey and aqua armor up to a single red optic. “Oh-hi-Shockwave-didn’t-see-you-there-are-you-all-right? I-didn’t-hurt-you-did-I?”

“No, Blurr, not at all.” Shockwave reached down with his clawed servos and set Blurr up on his pedes. “But I would be more worried about myself if I were you. That was quite a bump.”

“Oh-I’ve-had-worse-on-the-racetrack!” Blurr explained brightly. 

“I believe I saw one of your races.” Shockwave turned and walked down the corridor with Blurr. “Fasttrack nearly gave you a run for your credits.”

“Fasttrack-was-always-a-wannabe-at-best. I-let-him-catch-me-a-couple-times-to-make-him-feel-better.” Blurr explained. “Primus-that-was-forever-ago.”

“It does seem so. Shall we talk sometime at the bar?”

“Gee-I-don’t-know-Shockwave. We-may-be-at-peace-now-but-I-don’t-know-if-I’m-ready-to-be-friends-with-you.” Blurr tapped his pede, considering. Optimus Prime could love Starscream all he wanted, but that was Starscream and this was Shockwave, and anyone could tell you that they were two very different mechs.

“Then let’s be enemies… over engex.” The scientist and spy proposed.

Blurr laughed. “Okay-that’s-fair. See-you.” And he took to his heels, zipping off again.

Shockwave continued on towards the laboratories, where Wheeljack was waiting. “Hello, Shockwave, nice of you to turn up.”

“I apologize for my lateness.” Shockwave stepped over to his bench and checked on his reactions. “I ran into someone and stopped for a chat.”

“Hmm. Well, can’t fault you there. Must not be a lot of time to talk at war.”

“Was it different for you?” Shockwave questioned the inventor. After all, they had both been at war, on opposite sides. It didn’t make sense for Wheeljack’s statement to apply to only Shockwave.

“Mech, I can talk and do anything else at the same time.” Wheeljack laughed, soldering down a few more chips. “Multitasking and trash talk. I have it all.”

“Then this journey into the far reaches is going to be very interesting.” Shockwave rolled his optic and kept working. 

After his shift, he found Blurr in the ship’s bar, but he wasn’t drinking: He was mixing cocktails.

“I-always-thought-I-would-open-a-bar-after-the-war. I-didn’t-expect-it-to-be-on-a-ship.” Blurr took a look at Shockwave and thought before snapping his digits. “You-look-like-a-cocktail-kind-of-mech.”

“Read me in one. Give me something fruity.” Shockwave requested, settling his bulk on a stool and adjusting his size slightly to compensate for the fragile seat.

Blurr popped together a cocktail, set it on fire, and stuck a skewer of fruits in it. “There-you-go-Shockwave. Hope-you-enjoy!”

Shockwave sipped the flaming cocktail and watched Blurr buzzing about behind the bar. The chatter of mechs was loud against his audials, but his sensory horns shielded the sensitive organs from the worst of it. Not a bad day to be alive, even in these times.

 

Ratchet had insisted on staying with Optimus. He had ranted and raved, threatened and even pleaded. But, in the end, he had boarded the Ark with Wheeljack.

It was still weighing on his processor. Optimus had sent everyone he respected, trusted, and leaned on into the depths of space without him. Even Soundwave had been leaving the last time Ratchet checked. But Wheeljack hadn’t wanted to wait around. He had understood, of course, but years of war had worn all of them down. The inventor wanted them to be on their way, to find new adventures. 

So, Ratchet had reluctantly, achingly, agreed to go with Prowl and Jazz to keep an eye on Wheeljack and Shockwave and all the other brilliant idiots sent to find them a new home while the rest of Cybertron built colonizing ships and prepared to move.

The medic laid out his tools in a better order again and tucked servos into his elbows as he considered the medbay: Empty. Hopefully it would stay that way. He could do with a nice, long, boring trip after all the excitement he had had the past vorns. With Wheeljack and Shockwave sharing a lab, though, excitement was bound to catch up to them eventually.

The medic stared out at the stars in their courses as the Ark sedately climbed through the void. They were headed towards the first of the planets that Shockwave estimated might be fit to Cyberform and would reach it in a matter of months.


	12. More Crewmembers

Skids and Nightbeat were having a very loud argument when the mechs reached their house. It was punctuated by the crash of objects falling down and the shrill squeal of a feline creature.

“Aww, poor puss!” Nautica gathered up the creature in her arms as it zipped through the pet door and into her arms. “SKIDS! NIGHTBEAT! WHAT THE PIT IS GOING ON?”

Skids, a blue mixed frame – from his kibble a Praxian and a Convoy – poked his head out. “Nightbeat was testing gravity again.”

“What?” Nautica pushed her way in, past Skids. “NIGHTBEAT PUT THOSE DATAPADS DOWN!”

“…This is one situation it’s best to stay away from.” Brainstorm told Starscream, tapping the side of a device that was determinedly droning: “Uh-oh… Uh-oh…”

“What’s that?” Starscream stared at the squeaking object, mentally preparing himself for the explanation.

“Oh, this? It’s just my Early Warning Device. Don’t worry, we’re still several notches below Run For Your Life.”

Starscream just shook his helm and they casually leaned against the wall around the small house while Nautica flushed Skids and Nightbeat outside, following after them, shaking her head. “This is a rental, you do realize that?” She slapped Nightbeat’s helm. “Moron.”

Nightbeat went off into a long rant about what exactly he was testing and attempting to prove while Starscream mentally re-thought his decision to hire these four. They seemed as much trouble as they were reportedly worth. 

That Nightbeat one in particular was tickling his Carrier senses and making him close his cockpit a little tighter over his precious babies. He became very glad of the black glass mask he had had the forethought to wear off the ship. Would these people recognize him? Nautica he had never seen before, but he knew Brainstorm from the university and Skids – wasn’t he one of Shockwave’s super-learners from before the war? He didn’t know Nightbeat, but if he was anything like the others, he would be trouble if they caught a hint that he wasn’t what he seemed. 

Unless…

Well, it wasn’t like they were crew. He could make up a story and not worry about any continuity errors in his narrative. 

Knockout and Breakdown were exchanging glances and the doctor turned to Starscream. “Nightwish, are you sure you trust this recommendation?”

“…I was, but I’m becoming less and less certain the longer this goes on.” Starscream sighed. “Should we just walk away and hope they don’t follow us?”

“What will we do if they do?” Breakdown questioned.

“Let’s decide if they do.” The Seeker turned and all three began walking back towards the port, sedate, but quickly. 

At some point, the other four Cybertronians fell in behind them and Starscream cast a look over his shoulder. “Oh, there you are. Well, come on.” They still needed an engineer to refit the ship.

Once at the ship, the four Cybertronians spread out, making measurements and estimating. Brainstorm was practically drooling when he began going over defensive weaponry and upgrades to the shield. 

Nautica was the first one to find the main issue: The engines and the generator. “This is seriously out of date. How long has it been since this ship was upgraded?”

“I don’t know. The ship was salvaged from pirates.” Starscream explained to Nautica as she looked it over, her visor glowing as she took measurements and worked through the specs. 

“Oh, that kind of job. All right, we can work with this. I’ll have to go over everything. If this was a pirate ship, they probably didn’t keep it in the best repair. It might need to be completely replaced.” Nautica explained, pulling up a few blueprints and checking the sizes. “I would recommend a quantum engine and a newer nuclear generator.” She explained. “It won’t come cheap, but they’re the best in the market.”

“How much is not cheap?” Starscream questioned, turning to walk beside her as she went up to the cockpit to examine the controls. 

“Two million credits for the engines and the generator alone. Then there’s the rest of the ship. If you’re going to have quantum engines, I’m going to need to reinforce the hull and up the shields’ power by almost three hundred percent. That’s to keep microparticles from puncturing the ship while at quantum speed and to ensure that the ship can withstand a quantum jump.”

“I see. So, for the whole thing, ship and all, do we have an estimate?” Starscream mentally calculated how much he had and made his own estimate based on what he had seen and heard of these four.

“I think four and a half million should about cover it, unless there’s any surprises in store.” Nautica pitched at the Seeker.

That was… considerably lower than Starscream had estimated. “That’s a low bid if I’ve ever heard one. What’s the catch?”

Nautica squared her shoulders and holstered her wrench. “We’re willing to skip the fee for the work if you let us sail with you.”

Now that was unexpected. “What?”

“Tsorelis is shipped out. We haven’t done a job in a while. We’re good, but we’re expensive. That’s the price you pay, and the people who were willing to pay it have all had their ships tricked out. That and it’s been a long time since we saw more than a glimpse of Cybertron or Caminus – which is where I’m from – so it’s great to see familiar frames.”

“So, you want to come along with me until you find a suitable planet to work on?”

“Maybe. Our long-term plans are… fluid, shall we say. But getting on a ship captained by Cybertronians would be a great step forward.” Nautica extended a servo. “What do you say, Captain?”

Ugh. He was going to be putting out fires for the rest of his life, wasn’t he? “It’s a deal, Nautica.” He shook her servo. “One caveat. Don’t mention the exact price to Knockout and Breakdown. I don’t want them knowing how much I have.”

“My lipplates are sealed, and I’ll be sure to make sure Skids, Brainstorm, and Nightbeat understand as well.” Nautica agreed. “I’ll need to order the quantum engine parts for assembly. I’ll put them in as soon as possible, but I’m going to need an advance to make sure they arrive. The materials for the hull and the reinforcement should be easier, and Brainstorm is probably already assembling some kind of cannon at least.”

“He’s… a bit of an inventor, isn’t he?” Starscream questioned apprehensively. “How many of his inventions explode?”

“Oh, a lot of them. Don’t worry, most of them are intended to explode and explode in other people’s faces. Like pirates.” Nautica explained. “But he does have his inventions that cause more trouble than they’re worth. Like the Cartoon Button.”

“The what?” Starscream could hardly dare imagine what that was and how it worked. 

“Don’t ask. It was a very long week.”


	13. Doubting Subordinates

Knockout and Breakdown were not happy that they were bringing along the four engineers. At least, not at first. “Herr commandant, I hate to question your wisdom, but we hardly know these mechs.”

“I hardly knew you and Breakdown when you came on board.” Starscream reminded the doctor, gently patting Rigel’s back as he squirmed in discomfort: Gas in his tanks from fueling too fast. Rigel squeaked out a burp and relaxed, snuggling into his Carrier’s servos and cooing softly. “There, do we feel better now?” Starscream nuzzled his small child, stroking the delicate wings – so like his own. Meanwhile, Orion began kicking at his cockpit, wanting to be held in his Carrier’s servos and not content to rest against the very thin layer of metal between his tiny body and Starscream’s spark chamber. All of his triple and quad changing children became rebellious if he left them too long without servo contact. Engelfire was especially bad about it. It had to have something to do with the differences in Grounder and Seeker biology. Probably because Grounders didn’t have an enclosed space in their robot mode to carry sparklings in while Seekers’ cockpits remained open and operable.

“Yes, but we fought pirates together and had time to bond.” Knockout fluffed his plating. Odd that he could do that: Normally fluffing like that was restricted to Seekers, but apparently the Velocitronians could do it – at least, the speedsters like Knockout. “We don’t even know these four’s stories.”

“I don’t know yours.” Starscream reminded him. “And you barely know the cliffnotes for mine.”

Knockout pouted, trying to come up with another argument.

“Save it, Knockout. Nautica made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. The ship’s repairs are going to cost a mint either way and this way, I won’t have to go and take out a heavyweight loan to finance it.” Starscream put it bluntly. “So we’re stuck with them for the moment.”

“…All right, but if that inventor blows up the ship, I want it on record that I objected.” Knockout finally concluded, crossing his arms.

“Agreed.” Starscream nodded, then distracted him by handing him Dawnseer. “Can you look at the angle of her wings, please? I don’t think they’re canted right. Not like Rigel’s at least.”

“Of course.” Knockout settled into a chair beside the Seeker and began checking over the pink and gold Seekerlet. “It may be because she didn’t exit the pod naturally like the others did.”

“Rigel’s wings are fine, though.” Starscream reached into his cockpit and touched the other sparkling’s back. The tiny wings fluttered against his digit. “And I’ve noticed that Disir has the same thing.”

“It might simply be how the shape of their wings is going to turn out.” Knockout gently manipulated the soft metal wings, pushing them out on their joints and checking the flaps. Dawnseer made several complaining – but not pained - squeaks as he worked. “I know, little one, just let me finish this and… done.” He patted the Seekerlet gently and held her back. “She has the full range of motion as far as I can tell. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“All right. It just worries me.” Starscream snuggled his only daughter against his faceplates and settled her back into his cockpit. 

“That’s perfectly understandable for a new Carrier. Especially one with an odd child out.” Knockout assured him. “Come to me if you notice anything else.”

“Thank you, Knockout.” Starscream relaxed against the couch, crossing his legs at the ankle and stretching. The sparklings were still gaining mass very quickly. They would start creeping, waddling, and hopping soon. By the time they weaned, they would be leaping about on their own, climbing into vents and getting into trouble. They started that very quickly, little pests.

As if to demonstrate his thoughts, Orion threw out a leg in a strong kick as he wiggled around on the magnetic surface of Starscream’s cockpit floor. His pede made a connection with the fuel line he was trying to turn himself towards and sent a jolt of pain through Starscream. The Seeker sighed and bore it, stroking their backs and purring soothingly to them.

Orion finally found the fueling nub and settled in to suckle. Starscream stroked his back gently to encourage him to take as much as he could hold. His portly little Seekerlets would soon have trouble moving freely, even in his deceptively large cockpit. More and more of his internals were being shunted into subspace as they grew. Soon, they would reach the limit and he would have to make other arrangements for them. Doubtless, Nautica would be glad to put together a cradle for them to nest in.

Speaking of Nautica.

Nautica came in, wiping her wrench. “We’ve dismantled the old engines to see what we can recycle and I swear Brainstorm saw Primus in its internals. He’s redoing the ventral cannons he’d already built.”

“That’s…. good?” Starscream questioned, shrugging and flicking his wings. “What’s the word on the parts? Anything I can do?”

“I got quotes from two of the yards we usually use. One of them’s a little more expensive, but in my experience they offer a better product.” Nautica pulled out a datapad. “And with the Quantum Engines, I think we should go with them.”

“The Engines are still the most expensive part of this whole project.” Starscream agreed, reading the plan. “But we’d better be careful… Get the materials from the quality contractor, but try to stretch them as far as possible without cutting corners.” He signed off on the quote, sending the credits electronically. “What’s the word on the Engines themselves?”

“The Generators will take the longest, they have to be shipped in from ROM, but they should be here within the decacycle. I think the engines and generator will be the last things installed just because of that time constraint. It does mean that we’ll be on solar alone for a few cycles at least while I hook up the new generators.” Nautica explained. “But it shouldn’t be too bad. Skids is putting solar panels on the upper hull and hooking them up in the inside.”

“Free energy is good energy.” Starscream nodded. “Will the panels carry over after the hull’s refitted?”

“We’ll need to do it piecemeal, but they should. I think our best chance is to strop back the parts of the hull that are damaged and splice them into new metal now, while reinforcing from the inside.”

“That should save some money on materials. If you think you can do it safely, go ahead.” Starscream agreed, settling back with another wince. Engelfire was chewing on his nub with his forming denteas. The Seeker reached in and gently corrected the little triple’s mouth position, relaxing as he went from chewing to suckling.

“Will do, Captain.” Nautica twirled her wrench. “I’ll get right to it.” And off she trotted.


	14. Homecoming

It took most of four decacycles to get their ship into space. By then, the six sparklings were creeping about on their bellies and getting underpede, cooing and making themselves beloved by the motley crew. They had taken a cargo of ore and were transporting it through one of the galactic arms. 

Knockout was still amazed by how fast the sparklings grew. “They shouldn’t even be able to lift their own helms yet.” He tickled Dawnseer’s pedes to make her kick and giggle. “I’m in the dark development wise.”

“That’s understandable. You don’t have Seekers on Velocitron, do you?” Starscream kissed Engelfire’s helm as he held the tank triple-changer steady. They couldn’t transform yet, but the nub on his back was becoming more prominent. By the time he was six, it would have completely developed and when he reached physical maturity, his weapons systems would activate and he would be as lethal as his Creator. Starscream intended to teach him to use his innate weaponry with care later in life. In fact, Nautica was installing a shooting range intended for just this purpose.

The reason Engelfire was so wiggly was that Orion was free and creeping around Starscream’s ankles, occasionally chirping in the broken frame language all six sparklings were beginning to speak. The two brothers were practically inseperable. 

“You’ll get to play as soon as Knockout sees that you’re okay.” Starscream chirped to his son, giving him a bit of an admonishing tap. 

Engelfire pouted, turned his faceplates up to him, and whined.

“Making a fuss won’t change it.” Starscream nuzzled his son. “Just wait patiently.”

At last, Knockout traded Dawnseer for Engelfire and looked the triple changer over. “He’ll have quite the cannon when he grows up.” He commented, tickling the sparkling and then releasing him to play with Orion. The two wrestled together on the floor. 

“Takes after his Creator in that respect.” Starscream explained, turning to Solis and Disi as they squeaked and chirped at each other. Each one was gripping onto a corner of a cloth blanket and tugging softly on it. 

“Must have been an impressive mech.” Knockout commented. “With a very high output spark to have Sired so many.”

“My fertility would have had something to do with it too.” Starscream reminded the doctor.

“And an exceptionally fertile Carrier.” Knockout shook his head. “It’s a good thing you have Breakdown and I around. I don’t know how anyone would handle so many little ones alone.”

“Oh, I’d have found a way.” Starscream assured Knockout and gathered up Rigel kissing his helm. 

 

They grew very quickly, of course. It was only a dozen or so vorns before they were all on their feet, walking, talking, leaping, hopping, little wings fluttering, and even hovering for brief periods.

And, of course, making trouble.

Orion and Engelfire ran, giggling through the Starcutter, a pair of long capes made out of shimmering fabric from Brainstorm’s lab trailing behind them. It was a good thing they were giggling because otherwise they would have been lost entirely to the adult mech chasing them down.

How Brainstorm had let the two most likely to cause trouble get ahold of his newest project – a pair of invisibility cloaks – Starscream had no idea.

Starscream made a dive for the two and landed flat. “Come back here!”

“No! Catch us!” They raced into the cockpit.

“You’re not allowed in there, you two! Get back here!” Starscream squalled. Suddenly, there was a massive jerk and everything was thrown suddenly to the back of the ship. A voice that sounded like Dawnseer screamed before a box of something came hurtling at Starscream’s helm and everything went dark.

Starscream woke to emergency lights and alarms. None of them seemed to indicate that the ship was open to vacuum, a mercy, but it still left the mystery of what had happened.

Starscream stood up, achingly, and his helm swam as he stumbled towards the cockpit. He tripped over an invisible lump in the floor and reached down, pulling the invisibility cloaks off of his unconscious sons. “My babies…” He murmured, picking them both up and looking them over. They seemed mostly fine, but he would have to find Knockout and get him to look at all six of his delicate children.

Starscream looked down at the instruments. Engelfire or Orion had run into the ignition and knocked them spiraling off course and into a quantum jump. Starscream turned off the engine and looked ahead, not knowing where they were. There was a dim star and a dark planet before them. With care, he steered the ship into its gravity and landed. They would need repairs and to figure out where they were.

Starscream went through the ship, collecting his children – in various states of consciousness – and placing them with care in their little berths. “Stay here, babies. Carrier’s going to find Knockout.”

Orion whimpered, clutching his helm. “I’m sorry, Carrier. I didn’t mean to.”

“Shh.” Starscream kissed his helm. “You’re going to be all right. Just be still.”

Rigel’s wings were bent and he cried softly in pain as Starscream went and roused Knockout. “Nightwish? What happened?” He sat up. 

“Orion and Engelfire accidentally activated the Quantum Engines, Knockout.” Starscream explained. “Rigel is hurt, I need you to look at him.”

“Breakdown?” Knockout questioned as the Seeker dragged him to his sparklings’ sides.

“I’ll find and tend to him, I promise.” Starscream assured as he went to the cargo bay.

Nautica was in the engine room, wrench beside her. She helped Starscream rouse Brainstorm – in his lab – and Breakdown and Skids, who were in the cargo bay. Skids arm had been crushed under a falling pile of cargo. Breakdown had come through dented and chipped, but all right.

By the time they came back to the crew quarters, Nightbeat had made warm energon and was distributing it along with engex as a cure-all. “Does anyone know where we are?”

“Congratulations, Nightbeat.” Starscream was not feeling generous as he took the cube offered him and started towards the sound of Dawnseer’s squeals for Carrier. “You’re officially in charge of figuring that out.”

“Lovely.” Nightbeat didn’t take it badly, but went up to the cockpit to start work. 

Starscream and Knockout worked between the Seeker’s six children. “They’ve been banged up, herr commandant and no mistaking.” Knockout worried over a dent in Dawnseer’s helm. The femme Seeker had been hovering when the ship jumped and she had been catapulted into a wall. “There’s not much I can do except for basic welds, patches, and berth rest.”

“Is Orion going to be all right?” Starscream held his eldest son in his arms. Orion had passed out again even before Knockout had sedated the sparklings.

“I don’t know. We need to take his helm off. I think he might be bleeding near his processor, which would explain how much pain he’s in.” Knockout and Starscream carefully separated the piece of armor from the sparkling. “But if it’s his processor bleeding, then there might not be anything we can do.”

Starscream felt coolant running down his cheekplates as Knockout examined his child. 

About halfway through the examination, Knockout’s vents sighed in relief. “It’s not his processor bleeding, but he’s fractured his nasal strut right beside it.” The doctor wiped away a dribble of blood from his nasal vent. “Nothing some nanites can’t fix.” He reached into his kit and prepared an injection.

Starscream smiled in relief himself and held Orion still so Knockout could inject the nanites right up near the fracture.

As they were finishing up the impromptu surgeries and Starscream was tucking his sparklings in to rest, Nightbeat and Nautica knocked on the door. “Captain!”

“What is it?” Starscream called back as Knockout opened the door.

“We’ve found where we are!” Nautica rushed in. “You won’t believe this! It’s my homeworld!”

“What?” Starscream straightened up. “Where?”

“Caminus!” Nautica led them out to the observation deck and pointed over the horizon. “My home city is just that way. We can get supplies and help there!”

“How long has it been?” Starscream smiled at Nautica’s enthusiasm. 

“I don’t know: Eons.” Nautica sighed, looking up at the sun. “It seems dimmer now. I hope everyone is all right.”

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Starscream patted her back. “Go get the skiff and head over. Take anyone else who wants to go. I’ll manage the ship.”

“Thanks, Captain. Come on, Skids! You’re finally going to meet Lotty!”


	15. The Rust Reigns

The rust had taken even the Palace’s garden by the time the last transport was built and ready to ascend into the sky. Optimus stroked the stunted and dying leaves of a Ferrobolt tree. There was a ship which was practically a giant greenhouse waiting in orbit with the rest of the convoy, ready to go forward into the black to the planet Rodimus and his crew had found to settle on. It had been packed with examples of each kind of plant Cybertron had to offer. Still, Optimus mourned for his garden, wishing he could see his sparklings peeking out at him from the foliage. It was dying, there was no way around it, and he was leaving.

Starscream’s memorial was staying behind as well and, with precious little time remaining before the scheduled launch – though no mech would dare leave the Prime behind – Optimus made his way to it, a large candle and a cluster of small votives in his subspace. 

“What would you think of this, Starscream?” Optimus lit the candles at the statue’s pedes. “We’re leaving. At last. And you can’t come with us. Perhaps some other time, when things aren’t so desperate, we might return for all the things we cannot take now. But by then who knows what might have happened?”

A breeze whispered over Optimus and he sighed, touching his mask. “If only you were here to see this… Well, if you were here, I suppose this never would have happened. The sad truth is… if you hadn’t died, I don’t know how long this war might have gone. You really are a hero, Starscream. I only wish you didn’t have to be.”

A heavy brocade banner that someone had draped in reverence over the Seeker’s wings stirred in the dying wind. It seemed even the air was meeting its end. 

Optimus knelt and touched two digits to his forehead. “…I have to go now. Good-bye, my loves.” He touched the pendant that still hung about his neck. “I will carry pieces of you with me forever, and see you in the Well, at rest.”

 

Megatron was waiting, impatient to start. “What kept you?” After Soundwave had sent a brief burst status-update to the warlord, his spirits had become much better than when the telepath mysteriously disappeared into the black.

“Saying good-bye.” The Prime stated simply, no further explanation necessary. 

“I hate to leave it behind. Are you certain we can’t simply get it in somewhere? There’s room in my quarters.” Megatron folded his arms. 

“We have his likeness. Another statue can and will be made when we get to our destination.” Optimus replied. “And you’ll have a chance to have your poetry carved onto the base of the statue.”

“Perhaps. But we are taking so much of this old artwork… why can’t we simply shunt some aside?”

“Antique works of the masters take precedence because of historical significance, Megatron.” Optimus stepped up the gangplank and the ship folded, engines humming and ready for take-off. “Starscream would understand.”

“I don’t understand!” Megatron followed Optimus into the ship. 

“It’s irrelevant, Megatron, we’ve lifted.” Optimus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nasal vent. “Our rendezvous with Shockwave comes in a few weeks. I intend to recharge for most of that time. I suggest you do too.”


	16. Caminus and Insults

Starscream didn’t know why they were still on planet. The ship was repaired, the cargo was waiting, and they were still here on this rustball planet backwater that had an obsession with ancient religious history and performing arts. He almost snorted everytime someone mentioned it. If any culture needed to put aside the trappings of civilization and focus on survival, it was this one.

Starscream was not impressed by Caminus. It was little more than a ball of rust. It should have been abandoned long ago. Yet, somehow, it had the look of decadence in spite of the obvious detriments. There was an opera house, still putting on shows, and many, many temples.

He disliked it at once.

Still, there was something charming about the place and Windblade, who was some kind of diplomat or official, was giving him a history run down. It was full of religious tat and likely not at all accurate, so Starscream wasn’t listening.

Finally, Windblade realized this. “Captain Nightwish!” She snapped at him. “Are you listening?”

“No.” Starscream answered automatically, knowing this response would frustrate his guide the most. “Do you have a point?”

“Yes.” Windblade sighed. “I want to purchase passage for myself and a group of my people to establish a colony.”

Starscream’s optics jumped. “That’s a tall order for a small freighter like the Starcutter! How many mechs and how much in the way of supplies are you expecting to bring?”

“At the moment, there are fifteen of us.” Windblade explained. “And I know it won’t be easy, but there are almost no ships that come to this part of space. We don’t expect luxury: You could put us in your cargo hold in stasis and we will not complain.”

“I already have a valuable cargo in the hold.” Starscream replied, folding his arms. “Space is cramped and there is little I can do. I’m sorry, your request is just impossible.”

“There has to be something! How valuable is this cargo? Perhaps I could purchase it from you-“ But Starscream was already shaking his helm.

“The cargo consists of Pandyssian furs, fire gems, various minerals, and valuable construction metals.” The Seeker explained. “The whole is worth almost five million credits.” It had been a ridiculously large cargo at such a low price that Starscream knew it had to be stolen, but the idea of shipping it elsewhere and selling at such a high profit had been irresistible for the Seeker. “And at our intended destination, it could be sold for seven million.” Looking around pointedly, Starscream made the valid point. “I doubt this whole planet is worth seven million.”

Windblade slumped, wings drooping. “There has to be something we could do. What if you left the cargo here in storage and took us elsewhere? Then, you could come back for the cargo.”

“And trust such a valuable haul to clearly desperate mechs?” Starscream countered. Caminus was nothing like pre-war Vos, at least not yet, but they were closer than he liked to admit. 

“What if we were crew? We’d take any quarters available, do any jobs…”

“How much crew do you think a ship this size requires? Look, I wish there was a way.” Starscream shook his helm at Windblade. “I really do. But there’s nothing I can do. The ship is full and I have six sparklings to think of and look after. Fitting fifteen mechs into the Starcutter, with the cargo and crew I already have… It would just be impossible.”

Windblade pouted at his back as he went to collect his little ones from where they were playing with the other sparklings. There were very few of them born in this desperate city and he gathered his daughter up in his arms, taking his sons’ servos and making them into a chain of little mechs trailing from one servo, beginning with Orion and ending with Rigel at the end. 

Windblade ran after him. “Please! I know you’ve seen war, you have to have seen desperation too-“

“What do you mean by that?” Starscream snapped, his very different children gathering about him. Engelfire’s engines made the slightly alarming sound of a cannon trying to warm up and Orion stepped in front of them all protectively. 

“It’s- I mean- Your sparklings… They can’t be of the same Sire… I simply-“

Starscream slapped her, open servoed but angry. How dare she name what even the lecherous Knockout had known well enough to leave alone? “How dare you.” He hissed at her, wings rattling. “You know nothing of me, of what I’ve been through, how my life has been. I will not be shamed into aiding your ridiculous quest, and I will not be displayed for public ridicule!” With that, he firmly took Orion’s servo again and led his little ones away at a pace too brisk for Rigel’s tiny pedes. The Seekerlet climbed onto Engelfire’s back and was carried off.

The Seeker sent a terse comm to the members of his crew ordering them back to the freighter and began firing up. The engines had been repaired and though the cargo still hadn’t been put to rights, he would stay no longer.

Breakdown had barely closed the boarding ramp when Starscream had taken them out of orbit on full burn. After making a quantum jump in the direction of their destination, Starscream stormed from the cockpit to his quarters and threw himself on the berth. He didn’t know why Windblade’s insinuation hurt so badly. It was true, after all, and he had never been shamed before.

Perhaps it was because it had been so long since he had had to do anything desperate. It had been almost thirty six vorns since his babies had been born, since he had been safe from his history. Starscream hadn’t thought of either Creator of his children in so long it had been almost as if they didn’t exist anymore.

Coming out of the cockpit, Starscream gathered his children up. Rigel and Dawnseer went into his cockpit. Disi and Solis climbed onto his back. Orion and Engelfire were easily picked up, one in each arm, and he stormed into his berthroom, shutting the door firmly behind him, shutting out the world.

“Don’t be sad. It’s okay.” Orion patted his face, trying to sooth his Carrier.

“Yeah. We’ll kill the wench!” Engelfire assured Starscream. 

“You won’t kill anybody.” Starscream lay down on the berth, holding his six children to his frame. “And don’t use such language.” Still, he kissed both of their forehelms and cuddled Solis when she chirped and purred to him.

“Carrier okay. Carrier okay.” Dawnseer patted his vents, crawling free from his cockpit. 

“Yes, darling, Carrier’s going to be fine. Let’s just snuggle for a bit.” Starscream told them, nuzzling their soft helms. 

“Kill the wench.” Engelfire muttered. Very much his Sire’s child.


	17. The Colonists

But not even Starscream could stay angry forever. After a suitable time to cool down – about as much time as it took to take his cargo to the port and sell it – they returned to Caminus. Windblade was waiting.

“Kill the wench.” Engelfire muttered to Orion when they saw her.

“I knew you would come back.” The innocent beamed at Starscream. 

“Yes, well, Nautica wore me down. Incidentally, she also paid a decent fee for passage for fifteen mechs to any system you pick in this sector.” Starscream’s words were clipped and harsh.

“…That’s great, but… I’m afraid we’ll have to step on your good will a little because… well, ever since your ship came, our numbers have… doubled.” Windblade explained, keeping a smile on her face. “It won’t be a problem, will it?”

Starscream sighed and pinched his nasal vent, turning to walk away.

“Wait!” Windblade rushed in front of him. “I do have something to say. Please.”

“Be quick about it. I have to rearrange the cargo bay.” Starscream folded his arms.

“I apologize for my rash words.” Windblade bowed low, almost to the ground. “It was wrong of me to mention your past. I do not know of you, and I doubt I ever will, but I did not wish to offend or hurt your feelings. Let me beg forgiveness.”

Starscream chuffed, uncomfortable at the display. “Oh, get up. I’ve heard worse and I will hear worse again. You said nothing that wasn’t true and I overreacted.” The captain walked around her. “Now if you really want me to forgive you, you’ll keep my six demons distracted while I have a flight to myself for once.” 

The Camien eagerly followed him up into the ship and took command of his children while Starscream took a few moments to fly in the cool, thin atmosphere. Life was progressing. It would go on, hopefully peacefully, for all involved.

Of course, he should have known better.

 

“You’re all sparklings!” Starscream rushed down to the cargo bay where someone was trying to put on a play and making all the racket possible while doing it. It was supposed to be an opera, but the person on stage couldn’t sing to save her life. 

As it turned out, thirty Camiens could cause an impossible amount of chaos. It was no wonder they were so close to ruin. And, according to Nautica – who had fled the miserable planet at her first opportunity like a sensible being – these were actually better than most of their populace. In other words, these silly little imbeciles were the scientists, engineers, and doctors who made practical choices in the face of adversity.

Starscream could almost cry.

“I can’t wait until we get to Yuuzhan 4!” Starscream shouted through the door at them all. “I’m going to be glad to sleep well again!”

There was no response. The passengers had gotten used to Starscream’s attitude towards them and his occasional outbursts no longer phased them. 

 

Optimus set pede on Yuuzhan 4 and took a shallow vent. This was to be their new home.

It didn’t look like much, but that was the point. Wheeljack and Shockwave reported that they had already found a way to cyberform a small section of the planet and would work on more of it soon. For now, this would have to do until they could get their shelters set up and society back up and running.

The mechs that had beaten them there had already done a lot to get started. Everything seemed to be in good condition. It was far better than anything Optimus could have thought up. Further, he couldn’t wait to see what Wheeljack had called a “surprise” waiting for them there.

The Prime set out to find the inventor, nodding greetings to those he passed. There was Jazz, pestering Prowl with something. Shockwave was talking to Blurr, oddly enough.

And there was Wheeljack. New scorch marks on his plating and eyes twinkling as he rushed to Optimus. “You’ll never believe what else is here, Prime!”

“What?” Optimus questioned Wheeljack, walking with him.

“Colonists! Other Cybertronians. Except they’re from a planet called Caminus.” Wheeljack explained, leading him quickly to a small group of shelters arranged nearby. “Windblade!”

Optimus raised his optical ridges as Windblade, a lovely red and white flyer, came out of one of the shelters. “Wheeljack. Is this the Prime you told us about?”

“Yes. Optimus, this is Windblade. Windblade, this is Optimus.” Wheeljack introduced them. 

“Optimus. We were glad to find that we wouldn’t be alone on this planet.” Windblade smiled broadly. 

“It’s nice to see some new faceplates.” Optimus smiled at her from behind his mask. “How many are there of you?”

“There are thirty four of us, counting Nautica, Skids, Brainstorm, and Nightbeat.” Windblade explained. “Though Nautica and her crew are engineers, not really colonists. They decided to stay after we were delivered here, though.” 

“Who were you delivered by?”

“A Cybertronian Captain named Nightwish. A bit of a sharp-tempered mech, but a good spark.”

“…Nightwish, eh?” Optimus frowned, wondering.


	18. Soundwave and Nightwish

Soundwave caught up with Starscream on Tseloris. The enigmatic Communications Officer had heard the tales of a Captain Nightwish and recognized his brother in them. Among the organics, Cybertronians could be a rare sight, so one was bound to remember their presence. Here, on this small mining world, Starscream had developed a reputation as a scrupulous trader, though he would flay a man’s hide with his prices. 

Soundwave waited in the shadows of the primitive space port. Starscream’s ship was docking and his brother and remaining crewmembers were unloading their cargo. The six sparklings played in their Carrier’s sharp-opticed sight while the adults worked.

Silently, the stealthy communications officer slid into the light and slipped towards them, graceful.

Starscream looked up and his faceplates twisted slightly. “Soundwave.” He greeted the mech. “What brings you here?”

“Soundwave: Seeks a private audience.” Soundwave let the remains of his wings flare slightly and flick, denoting invitation.

“Of course. Inside?” Starscream gestured into the ship and they went to his quarters.

“How goes the war?” Starscream questioned. “I heard it ended almost as soon as I left.”

“Starscream: Missed. Optimus Prime: Grieving.” Soundwave spoke crispyl. “Starscream’s return: Desired.”

“He doesn’t know I’m still alive, Soundwave, and it’s going to stay that way. I left the war behind long ago.”

“The War: Over. Starscream: Belongs at home.”

“From what I’ve heard, home is another planet now. Why would I want to go back?”

“The Spark: Home. Starscream’s Spark: Still belongs to Optimus Prime.”

Starscream sputtered. “No, it doesn’t! I put all that behind me.”

“Starscream: Has nothing to fear. Will be welcomed.”

“Starscream: Doesn’t want to!” The Seeker exclaimed, turning away. “I’m happy. My sparklings are happy. Why can’t we just be happy?”

“Starscream: Will be happy.” Soundwave put a servo on his arm. “For Soundwave.”

“…All right. But only because I owe you a favor.” Starscream growled. “I’ll tell my crew where we’re going.”

Soundwave hovered behind Starscream like a spectre all throughout the trip. It was making him nervous. “What am I going to tell my children?”

Soundwave looked questioningly at them.

“What? What was I going to say? Oh, by the way, your Creators are on opposite sides of a war for conquest that’s spanned generations?”

The spy face-palmed. “Starscream: Has to tell them eventually.”

Starscream grumbled back into his board. “Right. Like that would go over well.”

“Starscream: Can face this. Sparklings: Still young.”

“Whatever.” He stood up. “Give me some damn privacy, by the way.”

“Very well.”


	19. Guilt

Of all the people who had to meet them… it was Megatron. 

Starscream had been steeled to greet his Sparklings’ sires, but did he have to do it this way? Who garunteed that Megatron wouldn’t just rip his helm off?

But with Soundwave behind him and Knockout watching, he didn’t have much choice. He stepped off of the gangplank and squared his wings up.

At first, it was clear the Warlord didn’t recognize him. Windblade, at his side, bounded forward. “Captain Nightwish! How have you been?”

“…Well, up until this moment, I didn’t have a migraine or joint aches.” Starscream snarked at her.

And Megatron knew his voice.

“Starscream!” The warlord’s jaw dropped and he grabbed Starscream’s jaw, forcing his face upward. “What- How-“

“Get off of me!” Starscream pushed him away and, to his surprise, the tank went. "I faked my own death and ran away! Is that so hard to believe?”

Megatron’s optics narrowed slightly. “Admittedly no. What happened to the Sparkling?”

Orion came down the ramp, racing to his Carrier, holding a small model plane aloft. Megatron looked down at him and saw a miniature Optimus Prime with wings. “…I see. Prime’s after all, then.”

Engelfire came racing down the ramp, followed by Disi and Solis. Dawnseer and Rigel flew out of the ship in their small jet modes.

Megatron was stunned into silence. “….You never do anything by halves, do you, Starscream?”

The Seeker heaved a deep sigh as the sparklings rushed about. “No. Do you know where Optimus is?”

“I warn you, he’s either going to faint or cry.” Megatron told Starscream before pointing towards the make-shift governmental building near the center of their small village. “But before you go…” His optics lingered on Engelfire. “What’s my son’s name?”

“…Engelfire.” Starscream replied softly.

“A strong name.” The massive mech gingerly stepped out among the sparklings, insinuating himself into their game carefully. 

Soundwave’s mask flashed in pleasure as he too went to play with the sparklings.

That left Starscream alone to walk to his own pillory.

Optimus was in an office, bent over a stack of paperwork. It was sparkbreakingly like coming home to see him again, unchanged, except for the memory pendant around his neckcables.

Starscream slid around him, his presence undetected, until he severed the memory pendant’s ribbon with his claws and pulled it gently from the Prime’s neck, boosting himself up to sit on the desk as he did it.

Optimus looked up sharply and jumped backwards, knocking over his chair.

“I always knew you’d fallen for me.” Starscream smiled down at him. 

“…Starscream?” Optimus cut his optics around the room. “Are you really here?”

“Yes.” Starscream nodded and sighed. “I… faked my death.”

“But why?” Optimus set the chair back up and sank helplessly into it. He threw one servo out and gripped Starscream’s knee as if proving to himself that he was solid. 

“Because I was afraid.” Starscream rocked slightly. “And I wasn’t thinking. Or thinking too hard.”

“And… the sparkling?”

“They’re alive too. Come with me. I’ll introduce you to them.” Starscream wrapped his arms around Optimus’s and began pulling him with him. “Come on.”

As Optimus tripped over his pedes to follow the Seeker, a lightness flooded his EM field and through his frame. Soon, they were both running out to where Orion and his siblings were playing. Optimus recognized himself in the sparklings as he held his arms out and the sparklings knew him – ran to their second Creator.

Starscream found himself smiling.

He never felt guilty.


	20. Epilogue

Optimus pushed the model tank gently over the floor. Orion and Engelfire were playing castles and he was the enemy sieging them. 

Orion punched a fist in the air as one of their marbles took out a line of Optimus’s infantry. “Yes!”

“Good job!” Optimus smiled. “But watch out on your other side.” His tanks reached the castle walls and began their bombardment.

“No!” Engelfire squealed, rushing to defend the castle from his side. 

Megatron shook his helm. “After millenia of war, you would think you wouldn’t want to play at it.”

“They’re just children. They should play innocently for now.” Starscream scolded him, Rigel in his lap. The Seekerlet was growing up into his twin more every day. “Perhaps later we’ll tell them the truth about war, but for now, let them have their heroes and battles.”

“Carrier!” Dawnseer ran over with an open book. “Tell Ravage it isn’t a bird if it doesn’t lay eggs! She won’t listen!”

“Darling, a Pechinue is a kind of bird that doesn’t lay eggs.” Starscream explained gently, taking the picture book and lifting his daughter up. “There are always exceptions to the rules in nature.”

Dawnseer pouted. “But if it gives birth, it has to be a mammal!”

“No. Since it has hollow bones, it is a bird with mammal-like traits.” Starscream corrected.

Disi and Solis shrieked in delight as their block tower fell over.

Soundwave shook his helm at the chaos and laid it against Megatron’s. The former spymaster had taken off his mask.

Starscream’s wings flicked as he stood up and gently set Rigel on his pedes. His family was complete, at last.


End file.
